Redemption
by luvjkr
Summary: Complete...again. All chapters revised.
1. Summer Sessions

Chapter 1: Summer Sessions

It was a late July evening and the murmur of a summer holiday's trip lingered through the immaculate rooms of number four Privet Drive like the aroma of something fresh from the oven. An excited sort of buzzing seemed to seep through the walls of the upstairs landing making it impossible for the fifteen-year-old boy in the smallest bedroom of the house to ignore.

Harry Potter replaced his circle rim glasses and, abandoning his vein attempt to fall asleep, rose grumpily from his bed to opened the window; thinking longingly of the time he had climbed through it and right into the flying Ford Anglia that use to belong to his best friend Ron Weasley's dad, and hoping for a moment that it would once again come to his rescue.

Sliding the window open Harry drew in a deep breath and sighed. He was not upset that he would not be going with his aunt Petunia, uncle Vernon and cousin Dudley on a two-week long holiday to the States. The fact that his Uncle Vernon's sister Marge would be joining them was even more of a reason for Harry not to go.

To say that Harry did not like Marge would be an understatement, but the prospect of having to continue occlumency lessons made Marge and the rest of the Dursleys a little more bearable. This was not due to the difficulty of occlumency lessons, but rather, the fact that the subject often brought back feelings of guilt and self-loathing at the thought that it might have prevented the death of his godfather, Sirius Black.

His eyes began to water and, blinking hard, he turned automatically to Hedwig's empty cage. Because of the ban on owls his uncle had imposed the instant he returned form school, Harry did not even have his faithful friend Hedwig to keep him company. Harry had sent her off to Ron with a note explaining the situation, and the fact that she had not yet returned made Harry assume she was safe at either number twelve Grimmauld Place, or the Burrow, where he also longed to be.

But Hedwig's company was not the only thing lost in her extended absence. Now Harry had no way of sending messages to either Ron Weasley or his other best friend, Hermione Granger, whom Harry noticed he had been thinking of more often than before. He was constantly feeling a huge range of emotions that would have made him easily disagree with a comment Ron once made; "One person can't feel all of that at once, they'd explode."

Harry now had so many questions he thought must be typical for a boy his age that each and everyday he could not send Hermione a letter asking her for an explanation made him only too happy to retreat to his chores, and even a bit resentful when he finished with them.

He can vividly remember the look of half shock, half bewilderment on his aunt's face when he offered to do the gardening for her one afternoon. The fact was that Harry wanted to stay busy because his mind did not seem to want to think about anything else when he wasn't, and he feared what Dumbledore, Lupin, or Shacklebolt might think if they were to see all these memories of Cho Chang during his occlumency lessons.

It was hard to clear his mind of any emotion when, as often as angry thoughts of Cho seem to invade his calm, he would be alternately filled with fury, confusion, dread, or sadness; and with no Hermione to siphon off his thoughts to, there was no hope at all for an clear mind.

"Occlumency will keep Voldermort out of my head," Harry said sternly before reassuring himself that there were other consoling factors besides this obvious one. "At least I don't have to learn from Snape," he said, but before he could stop it his mind had instantly snapped onto Snape's worst memory, as it usually did whenever he thought of his least favorite teacher.

Harry cleared his head with a shake, before thinking out loud once more. "I get to see Professor Lupin." He felt a slow grin appearing on his face, and nodded to himself encouragingly, "and Kingsley Shacklebolt, an auror. Cool!" His excitement grew for a second before the spreading grin froze and Harry's mind snapped onto the image of Marietta Edgecombe and her blank gaze after Kingsley's memory charm, and as it always did, this image led to thoughts of her friend.

Suddenly, and not for the first time this evening, memories of Cho Chang came to mind. She was saying hello to him on the Hogwarts Express. She was crying. The two of them were talking about quidditch. She was kissing him. Harry lingered on this memory a little longer. And finally, she was blushing the very last time their eyes had met.

Screwing up his face in determined concentration, Harry continued. "I get to stay at Ms. Figg's house and I don't have to see the Dursleys, for two weeks." His grin returned but left just as suddenly. Remembering that he would be turning sixteen tonight, he looked down at the clock on his desk which read 9:56 PM.

"Another birthday by myself, then," he said, sinking into his chair. The thought of another birthday alone had not crossed his mind for some time now, but this last revelation had forced him back into bed, trying once more to ignore the buzzing of the impending holiday from down below, with the hope of fading into unconsciousness before any more depressing thoughts revisited him.

; )

He was in a dark, empty room and he could see a person about a hundred feet away. When he started walking towards him, the person too approached. Harry noticed several cushions and books strewn about the floor. Was one of the books flickering or was it something shinny on its cover?

Harry continued to approach the figure and called out, but the person did not answer. After a few more steps, Harry tried to call out again, but before he could finish he suddenly saw that there were more people appearing behind the distant figure. Harry froze, and as he did, so did the others.

Harry awoke quite suddenly as the all-to-familiar "Get up boy, no lying in!" thundered through his room, Uncle Vernon hammering away at his door. "I'm up," he said, surprised at his own calm for having just been so rudely awoken.

When Harry had found his glasses, he rolled out of bed and stood surveying his empty room. His trunk was packed away in the cupboard under the stairs and his open wardrobe was empty. Harry smiled; he always like the feeling of leaving this room behind for a long period of time, perhaps because doing so put him in mind of the day he would finally leave it, along with this house, and the Dursleys, for good. A day he had decided would be exactly one year from today.

He walked into the kitchen and avoided looking over at the portly figure sitting at the table. When Harry reached the refrigerator however, the woman spoke. "Get me another cup boy, this one's not washed properly, no doubt by you, and there's no telling what's been in it—what with all the odd things you do." Harry felt his face heating up as he turned slowly and walked over to the dishwasher, opened it, and pulled out the top rack.

Surveying the half-dozen or so glasses, one immediately caught his eye and he quickly remembered a round electric blue glass eyeball spinning about in water. Erasing the mischievous grin that had appeared on his face at the thought of Marge drinking from this cup, Harry turned and placed it on the table besides her sausage like fingers, and without so much as a backward glance, walked out of the kitchen suppressing a laugh which was intensifying with each step he took towards his room.

"Not a minute too soon," Harry said to himself, after the doorbell rang an hour later. Sure enough, there was Ms. Figg, standing in her usual carpet slippers and accompanied by a boy in rather baggy clothes whom Harry did not recognize. When Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia reached the door, the boy cracked his knuckles menacingly at Harry.

"My nephew Nicholas, on holiday from London," Ms. Figg said to Harry's uncle and aunt, indicating the boy next to her, who was still grinning evilly at Harry but looked up politely and greeted them with an insincere smile; the kind one would relate to beauty pageant contestants. "Oh, very good then," said Uncle Vernon, while Aunt Petunia smiled, revealing her horse teeth. "Get your stuff, boy."

Harry said nothing as he walked out of Privet Drive a moment later in between Ms. Figg and Nicholas feeling both confused and a bit apprehensive. He heard a rather girlish giggle from the boy on his right, but there was something oddly familiar about it, and when Harry chanced a sideways glance at the boy, a broad grin spread across his face.

It wasn't a boy at all, it was Tonks. She smiled and greeted him in a whisper. "You really didn't know it was me, did you?" she asked. Harry grinned still broader. "When did you get here?" "I've been here all week, patrolling your block." Harry thought for a moment.

"You were all those different kids that kept passing through, weren't you?" he asked, fore he had just remembered noticing different neighborhood children walking through Privet Drive, which was conspicuous because most children avoided Harry's street altogether. This was due to the rather unfair treatment they'd usually receive at the hands of Dudley and his gang.

"What are you doing girl," Ms. Figg hissed, "you're not to change in broad daylight, and in the open like this." Tonks immediately screwed up her face in concentration and, although Harry thought it looked more like a grimace of pain after a good telling off, soon saw the face of the boy he had just met.

Harry smiled for a moment before something in his brain clunked into place. Of course Tonks had been there all week. His safety was still in question, and after last summer's attack, he supposed he should have realized there would be some sort of guard around him still. They continued in an uneasy silence that was punctuated by Ms. Figg's flapping carpet slippers until they finally reached her house and promptly entered.

"Hedwig!" Harry's snowy owl was perched atop Ms. Figg's dining room china cabinet. She fluttered down to his arm as he approached her and hooted warmly. "How are you," he said softly, gently stroking the top of her head, "and what are you doing here?" "She's been coming and going all week," said Tonks, as Ms. Figg walked over to an end table, picked up a small bundle of envelopes, and placed them on the dining table in front of Harry before heading off to the kitchen.

"Dumbledore's been having all of your mail forwarded to Hogwarts, so your owl's been delivering them here," said Tonks, and she too entered the kitchen, perhaps to give him a little privacy. The door had just closed when the unmistakable sound of a frying pan hitting the floor with a clatter followed and Tonks could be heard apologizing.

Harry picked up the bundle of envelopes and Hedwig scaled his arm slowly until she reached his shoulder and sat there quietly, as though she were interested to read the very letters she had delivered. He tested the weight of the bundle in his hand and grinned at Hedwig. "You must be tired," he chuckled.

Harry turned his attention to the envelopes now in hand and, when he saw that the first envelope had writing much like Ron's, made to open it first, half-tossing the others back onto the table so that they slid apart when they landed.

He had just ripped open the envelope he was holding when he noticed that the bottom envelope, now visible after its landing, bore an official looking seal, and Harry knew instantly what it must be. The one bit of post he was sure he would be getting this summer—the only other thought that invaded his calm with feelings of dread and nerves.

As though in a trance he reached for it and at the same time, placed the already open envelope down on the very edge of the table where it teetered slightly. Harry took in a deep calming breath before setting his eyes resolutely upon the official seal and broke it open carefully.

Whatever the top letter said, Harry didn't read, or care. Instead, he merely scanned it before he flipped to the next page. Harry registered three clearly written items and then gasped; Subject: Defense Against the Dark Arts, Examiner: Professor Tofty, Grade: O.

His pounding heart caught up with him and his hands shook with excitement, making Hedwig hoot and fly onto a chair's high-back, looking startled. The first envelope fell to the floor after the down-draft of Hedwig's sudden flight and, looking down, not daring to believe what he had just read, Harry noticed that a ticket had slipped out of the folds of the parchment peaking out of its torn envelope now on the floor.

Placing his O.W.L. results carefully onto the table, Harry knelt down to pickup the fallen items, receiving yet another shock. The ticket was for a quidditch match between Puddlemere United and Tutshill. Numbly surprised Harry very slowly rose from the floor and gazed at the letter.

_Harry,_

_Happy birthday! Sixteen is a very important age because it only comes once in your lifetime. Hope you're doing well. This is your birthday present from me and George. But mum's told us that you have some summer sessions to be going on with, so you might not be able to go. It'd be a real shame if you can't make it. We got ourselves, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione tickets as well, and we're gonna catch up with Oliver after the match. If you can make it, come to 99 Diagon Alley on Friday morning... If you can't make it, we'll come get you ourselves on Friday morning. _

_Remember, today is the first day of the rest of your life, so make it a good one._

_Cheers, _

_Fred and George_

Harry examined the ticket closely, his excitement building again, and immediately resolved to put much more effort into his upcoming occlumency lessons than he had with Snape. He looked around, intending to seize his things and pull out the meditation book he had brought back from Hogwarts when Tonks came back into the dining room.

"Hey Tonks, is there any chance I could go to this quidditch match," Harry asked, more out of excitement than anything else. She reached for the ticket and grinned rather weakly, which made Harry's heart sink. "You know it's not really up to me, I mean, you should ask Dumbledore," she answered pleasantly. "Well, that's not a no", Harry said hopefully. Tonks gave the ticket back to Harry with an almost longing expression. "You know where your room is, right?" she asked, "I'll be right next door."

The next two weeks were some of Harry's happiest. Besides making excellent progress in occlumency, which almost guaranteed that his birthday present from Fred and George would not go to waste, Harry had also found another home away from Hogwarts that was almost as good as the Burrow.

Harry was able to watch whatever television programs he wanted and eat whatever he pleased. He'd thought less and less of Sirius there, and even when he would lament about his late godfather, he would find happier memories to think about instead. He had quite a few now that Remus Lupin had shared some of their more happier times, with the help of Dumbledore's pensive of course.

And his batty old neighbor Ms. Figg was indeed batty, but only outside of her house. This was for the sole purpose of blending into a neighborhood that would not be complete without a little old lady whom every kid avoided talking to for too long for fear of being the next kid accused by the others of actually knowing her.

The muggle family Ms. Figg had in the states was quite interesting to Harry, and Tonks. Harry even learned about American school dances and formals when he had once asked about a prom picture of Ms. Figg's niece and her date. She entertained them with stories of her family so much that, after a while, Harry and Tonks would bring up their favorite family members during their own conversations.

But the thing that made it feel most like a home to Harry was the older sister he suddenly had in the bedroom next door. One night Tonks had asked him if he had feelings for any particular girl. Harry's first thoughts were of Cho Chang, but he didn't think his aggravation and anger were the feelings Tonks had in mind.

"Can I ask you," Harry said, his frustration overcoming him, "why are girls mental?" "That's because boys make them like that," Tonks answered, half amused, half surprised. "Why, who d' you know that's mental?" she asked, and Harry recounted everything that had happened with him and Cho during the last two years.

Harry didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified to hear that what had happened between them was quite normal, and it was two o'clock in the morning before Harry fell asleep, somehow feeling both more enlightened and just as confused.

"I didn't know you liked to dance," said Ms. Figg excitedly one afternoon after she had spotted Harry trying to dance along to some music show. "I'm swearing off television," Harry said miserably to himself as Ms. Figg dragged him to the middle of the living room. Sure he had danced before, but it had entirely been Parvati leading him around after all, and he only did so because, as one of the school champions, he had to.

It wasn't until the arrival of Tonks, who was actually eager to learn swing, that Harry finally allowed himself to be taught, eventually enjoying it, although not nearly as much as Tonks seemed to. In all the hoopla Harry hadn't noticed Hedwig's return until she gave a soft hoot, a small envelope attached to her leg.

Harry felt a small pang of disappointment at Fred and George's note when he read that Hermione was on holiday with her parents and would not be making it to the match. "It's not so bad," said a small voice in his head, "What are the chances you'll need to talk to Hermione, I mean, you only want to tell her how you plan to tell off Cho next time you see her."

He had just looked at Hermione's ticket, which she had offered to Harry when it hit him. "Hey Tonks," Harry said playfully, "you don't know anyone who'd want to come to the quidditch match tomorrow night... only I've got an extra ticket and—"

Harry had never seen anybody move so fast before in his life. Tonk's knocked over a chair and sent a few cats scurrying off in every direction. Harry closed his eyes, fearing a collision, but the ticket was swiped from his hand as he was pulled into a tight embrace.

; )

Ginny led the way down the row and towards their seats while Harry, who was paying attention to her feet so as not to accidentally trod on them, followed closely behind rather than look ahead, often glancing out at the enormous pitch and raised stands.

"These should be ours," Ginny said as she double-checked the number on her ticket to the nearby seats. Then she let out a small gasp and, with a mixed expression of pleasure and surprise, kicked the seat she had just past, which was now in front of Harry.

The occupant, who had been talking animatedly next to two other teenagers, turned around suddenly. It was Michael Corner. He gave Harry a dirty look, before he recognized him and then goggled at Ginny. His eyes flicked over to Ginny's far right and then back at her and his expression quickly changed from shock to delight.

Surprisingly, he moved toward Ginny, arms outstretched. Ginny looked taken aback by his gesture but moved almost automatically to receive his hug. As she leaned over Harry saw whom Michael had quickly glimpsed. To his great surprise, sitting in the seat right next to Ginny's, was Cho Chang, her Tornados badge pinned to her Ravenclaw scarf tied around her waist.

The usual anger and frustration that would flare up at the thought of her was replaced by a kind of numb and hollow feeling. They stared at each other in astonishment for a moment before Cho smiled softly. The familiar feeling of excitement, that had not been there for some time now, suddenly returned and pushed what little anger had been building up completely out of him. Rather easier than he had expected, Harry returned a sincere smile.

Cho blushed and then turned to the person on her other side who was already looking over at him. Harry froze as he registered a man around Bill's age looking up at him, but as Cho turned to regard him once more, he realized that this man looked very much like an older version of her, and only looked away when Ginny came back into view, blocking Cho from sight. "Hullo Michael," Harry said dully, noticing Ron's right arm shooting back to his side as Ginny wheeled around towards Cho.

Harry had barely remembered that Tutshill's quidditch team was the Tornados, and that Cho had been a fan of theirs ever since she was six years old when the announcer's opening introductions began and silenced the crowd.

When the Tornados' seeker was introduced, Harry, assuming this woman would be Cho's favorite player, shot a sideways glance at her and, sure enough, Cho was watching the zooming figure in fascination. Harry was still watching Cho when her eyes, having followed the seeker fly past, flicked onto his and quickly looked away feeling quite embarrassed and thought he heard Ginny giggle, but when he turned to her, Ginny had a strait face and seemed to be over-interested in two chasers who were soaring by.

After a few minutes the game began and Ron, who had been talking to Fred, George, and Tonks, turned to Harry and said, "Puddlemere's got some really good Chasers. They'll probably start off with an _Owl-wing_ formation or something... no wait, Tornados' chasers are a bit slow and don't defend the dive very well so, probably—"

He looked pensive for a moment. "_The Falcon's dive_, I'd bet on it," he concluded. Harry didn't dwell on what Ron had just said and instead, pushed the play-by-play button on top of his omnioculars and brought them up to his eyes. _Three eagles formation_ flashed across the top of his vision for a minute, but as he watched, it changed to _Falcon's dive_. In a matter of seconds most of the stands erupted into applause as Puddlemere United scored the first goal.

Harry took a moment to admire Ron's scouting, but then the two seekers zoomed past and immediately caught his attention. Harry, being a seeker himself, continued to watch them zoom around amidst the other players. Puddlemere's seeker was marking Tutshill's, and it was clear to Harry why.

Tutshill's seeker was an excellent flyer, and helped disrupt Puddlemere's chasers just by nearly missing them, or else flying in between their passes. Then the Tornado's seeker began blocking Puddlemere's. Harry smirked as he recognized some of the moves he was watching, remembering with a feeling of nostalgia that Cho had used some of the same blocks on him their first and only match against each other.

Ginny leaned forward in her seat, Ron's omnioculars pressed against her eyes. Harry chanced another sideways look at Cho by partly turning his head away from his omnioculars without moving them, and to his amazement, she was watching him out of the corner of her eye, wearing what was unmistakably a guilty grin. With the same feeling of embarrassment that had made Harry look away last time, he chuckled to himself and lowered the omnioculars, grinning back at Cho.

His feeling of nostalgia was now replaced by a happy sort of feeling in the pit of this stomach, which was now moving slowly upward into his chest. Michael Corner turned again and stared at Ginny until she noticed him. She removed the omniocular's strap from around her neck, edged forward almost halfway onto Harry's seat, and then turned an ear to him.

She wore a giddy expression—Ron's, mild interest or disgust, Harry couldn't tell. He could tell, however, that Michael Corner was, in part, looking for a reaction from Cho because he kept shooting hopeful looks at her, which she did not seem to notice. Cho was busy applauding as the stands erupted again, this time in a collective groan, Tutshill having just scored their first goal.

She's definitely a lot prettier when she's happy, Harry thought, that funny feeling now warming every part of him. Harry looked out at the match, smiled, and before he realized it, had begun to clap as well. "You're rooting for the Tornados?" asked Ron in surprise. Harry froze, but as he did came Fred and George's voices. "Who is? Who, Harry?" Why not, said a voice in Harry's head. "Why not," he answered, and rather proudly, "their seeker's brilliant." He saw Tonks glance over at him, a wry smile playing on her face.

But Fred, George, and Ron were now sniggering and Ginny wore a smirk as she gazed from Ron to Harry. Her eyes glinted teasingly, and then she smiled. "Well, Harry can switch with me, then," she said, standing up. Confused, Harry watched her walk into the tiny space between him and Ron. For a split second Harry thought she was going to sit on his lap when he suddenly found himself being pushed into her vacant seat.

Harry, scooting to his right and still goggling at Ginny, felt his leg hit something on the chair and knew he had just knocked over Ron's omnioculars. He turned just in time to see Cho catch them an inch or two from the floor and heard a collective sigh of relief from the Weasleys on his other side.

Cho offered the omnioculars back to Ginny, reaching over Harry's lap to do so. Harry had been this close to Cho before but hadn't realized this intoxicating scent at the time because his attention was completely focused on her advancing towards his lips.

But before he dared take in a deep and would-be obvious breath, Ron snatched up his omnioculars just as they reached Ginny's fingertips. "Thanks," Ron said with a smile at Cho and a glare at Ginny. Harry's eyes, which had followed the omnioculars all the way into Ginny's hands, now looked at her half embarrassed, half amused expression. Harry felt Cho's eyes on him, or at least he hoped he did, and turned to her.

As if expecting this, Cho spoke immediately. "Harry, this is my brother Xiausai," she said, turning to the person beside her. "This is Harry, my friend from school," she said. Xiausai grinned and they shook hands.

"How's your holiday been," asked Cho, as though there wasn't a quidditch match going on in front of them. "It's been okay, better than last summer." "That's good. Mine's been dreadful. I've been thinking about the upcoming term and—" Cho broke off with a sigh and a shrug. "Well, no point in worrying about that now," she finished. She smiled at Harry for what felt like a minute. She seemed to be scanning his face. Then she blushed and turned back to the match.

"Have you ever used one of these?" Harry asked, indicating his omnioculars. He didn't know why but he felt keen on keeping Cho's attention. "No," Cho answered, with a hint of excitement. "Here, try them," Harry said, pulling the strap off from around his neck. He placed it around Cho's neck and then his excitement suddenly abated.

A tiny voice in his head, which sounded a bit like Ron's, instantly sliced through the warm feeling he'd been enjoying. "What are you doing, mate? Remember what happened last time?" Suddenly an awkward feeling pushed all excitement out of him and he felt his face turning red.

He noticed his and Cho's legs touching and, on the pretence of getting more comfortable, moved away slightly. Harry decided she was more likely to get angry if he continued to flirt with her like this and decided to avoid any more physical contact, accidental or otherwise. During his explanation of all the omnioculars features, he thought he had done the right thing because Cho seemed to be doing the same, or so he thought.

The match continued for another twenty minutes or so of fast paced action. Ron continued to make such accurate predictions that even Fred and George were speechless. Not until Michael Corner's keeper uncle took two bludgers, one to his right arm, the other to his head, did Fred and George finally stop goggling.

"Bet you didn't see that coming did you little bro!" said Fred. But even as Ron sniggered Harry realized that Oliver Wood, his old team captain, would be replacing the injured keeper. Sure enough, a familiar figure came zooming out to the goal posts while the crowd cheered; the Weasley's and Harry at the top of their voices.

Perhaps Michael Corner did not enjoy the obvious upsurge of applause for Wood as he prevented two consecutive goals because he stood up, looking irritated, and began making his way to the aisle. A few seats down, he paused and, with a meaningful look at Ginny, jerked his head in a silent plea for her to follow.

From what Harry could tell Ginny was only slightly concerned about what Ron was thinking because she stood up and made her way out with only a quick backward glance and a shrug to her older brother. Harry watched Ron watching Ginny until Ron finally turned to him with an I-don't-care-what-she-does-as-long-as-she-doesn't-take-him-back look on his face, before returning to the match with a roll of his eyes, and it was Harry's turn to snigger.

To Harry's delight he and Cho were able to watch the match and, at the same time, keep a running conversation about flying, Hogwarts, and quidditch in general that, unless he was very much mistaken, she was also keen to continue. Harry remembered how easy it was at times to talk to Cho, like on their stroll to Hogsmeade last term.

He was however, starting to regret not being able to use his omnioculars, having refused them each time Cho had offered them back to him. Then he realized that Ron's pair was lying on Ginny's now empty seat. He watched Ron out of the corner of his eyes, waiting for the next time Ron would crane his neck in the direction in which Ginny and Michael had disappeared.

Instead, the crowd suddenly rose to its feet as Puddlemere's chasers scored a spectacular goal. Harry quickly lifted Ron's omnioculars even as he heard Cho's voice. "Harry, are you sure you—" she began, but stopped as Harry turned to her and beamed, Ron's omnioculars clutched to his chest. Cho grinned mischievously and softly bumped Harry's thigh with her hip.

"It's a race for the snitch!" the announcer's voice cried out. A brief look of shock flashed between the pair of them before they wheeled around to face the match, omnioculars flying into position. Harry quickly spotted the two seekers about sixty feet apart and both diving in a forty-five degree angle that made it look as though they would collide some twenty feet from the ground, exactly where the golden snitch was hovering.

The crowd gasped as two bludgers barely missed one of the seekers, causing some of the chasers to stop mid-flight while the announcer's voice cried out once more. "They're going to collide!" The resounding intake of air was such that it sent a chill up Harry's spine while the excitement that only a dive could produce coursed through the rest of his body.

In the second or two in which most of the crowd watched the Puddlemere seeker pull up sharply from his dive, Harry focused on the golden snitch clutched tightly in the hand of the Tutshill seeker as she briefly spiraled out of control, having been hit by the Puddlemere player.

And even as, "Did he get it?" echoed throughout the stunned crowd, still on its feet, Harry and Cho threw up their arms in triumph and turned towards one another. Before he knew it, they had let their arms fall around each other in a celebratory embrace while they jumped up and down in excitement.

They parted when the people around them groaned with realization and shared an embarrassed grin before turning away, Cho towards her brother, and Harry to the Weasleys. But it was Ginny he spotted first, perhaps because she was staring right at him, a look of utter shock on her face as she made her way back to her seat.

Ginny was still several seats away when the need to ask overcame him and Harry silently mouthed, "What?" Ginny, now looking as though she were on the verge of giggles, calmly shook her head and slowly mouthed back, "Nothing."

When Ginny reached the others, Tonks grabbed her and whispered something to her, making her grin and nod excitedly, all the while avoiding eye contact with Harry. In no time at all the announcer had made his closing remarks and most of the crowd had filled the exit aisles in a disappointed rush to depart.

He heard another voice echo throughout the stands, this one sounding very familiar. "Wood, to your right!" Heads everywhere turned in all directions for the source of the voice. Harry, however, turned to the twins and saw George ignite his wand-tip and wave it slowly above his head as Fred uttered, "Quietus", his wand still pointed at his throat.

With a feeling that all-good-things-must-come-to-an-end, Harry turned to Cho. She removed the omniocular strap from her neck with a flick, making her long, shiny hair whip to her front. "Thanks... I ah," she began in a small voice, not meeting his eyes, which was good because Harry was busy staring at her hair and had to blink hard before he could reply.

"No problem," he finally said, in as casual a voice as he could manage after realizing the empting feeling, rather like a balloon slowly deflating inside him. Cho appeared on the verge of saying something but, instead looked into his eyes and smiled rather timidly. She handed Harry's omnioculars back carefully, as though she were handling something very special to her.

"See you around," she said, almost questioningly. Harry began to say, "I'll see you at school," but the memory of Cho Chang finding him on the train just to say hello last year flashed before him and, "I'll see you on the train," came out instead.

Cho looked just as shocked as he felt, if not more so, but before either of them could recover, Oliver Wood's voice broke in, "Harry, good to see you." Cho looked down and Harry turned to his old captain. "Brilliant goal tending Oliver," he greeted.

Oliver nodded sheepishly and Harry knew he was trying not to feel too proud with himself. "Listen everyone," Oliver said, "I'll catch you up in a few minutes, out by the main entrance, alright?" They nodded and Oliver kicked off and zoomed back out to the pitch.

Harry turned back to Cho, a feeling of dread beginning to spread inside him. A tiny voice in his head spoke. "We can't go more than an hour or so before something goes horribly wrong, let alone a whole train ride. We'll have a fight before the snack trolley comes along."

"Well..." Harry began, but Cho interrupted. "I'm... well, I'll be in Hogsmeade a few days before term starts, so I won't be on the train," she said breathlessly. Far from being relieved by this news, Harry's dread tuned instantly into disappointment, which he tried very hard to hide. "Oh, well I'll see you at school then," he recovered quickly.

"It was really good to see you Harry," she said with the same soft smile she had greeted him with. Harry's spirits rose. "Well, bye then," she said. "Yeah, bye," he said, and with that Cho turned and followed her brother to the exit aisle, glancing every so often back at Harry and the others.

For some reason Harry wasn't sure how or what to feel at the moment. So many things were going through his mind now; happiness, relief, disappointment, loneliness, all washed over him so that he didn't even notice Tonks standing beside him. "Have a seat Harry," she finally said, snapping him out of his daze.

Thankfully the Weasleys were all still engrossed in the match, especially in Ron's scouting, which he compared to Wizard's Chess, that Harry's inattention went unnoticed. It wasn't until Ginny asked about Harry's holiday that he finally said anything more than, "yeah" and "that was good."

Immediately Tonks answered for him, "He learned how to swing dance." Harry felt his face heating up at Ron's appalled expression. "What's swing dance?" Fred, George and Ginny chorused together. "It's a kind of muggle dance you do with a partner," said Tonks brightly.

"Don't you have a partner whenever you dance anyway," asked Ginny, almost giggling. "You need a partner to swing around, not just keep in front of you..." Tonks explained, "and Harry's a really good leader." "It's popular in the States," Harry said, feeling he had to justify his learning to dance to Ron.

"How do you know about the States?" asked Fred and George together. "Ms. Figg... she's got loads of family there," said Tonks, and she and Harry shared a grin. Harry gratefully seized on the change of subject.

He and Tonks told the four Weasleys all about the stories they'd heard from Ms. Figg. When they got to the part about the socials and proms, Fred and George mentioned how they were developing orbs that, when opened, would release a mini fireworks display to accompany whatever songs it reproduced.

"Weasley's Portable Parties," Fred and George said hopefully. "Really," asked Harry, who had just envisioned the Gryffindor common room filled with music and lights that made it resemble one of the shows he had seen on television.

When Oliver caught up with them, they eventually decided on a private room at The Leaky Cauldron. To many disappointed protests Tonks bid them goodbye and stated that she would return for Harry later. But Harry knew she would not be far. Indeed, he was quite certain that she'd be very close, making sure that they were all safe... that he was safe.

So it was with a bit of guilt that Harry enjoyed dinner and drank pumpkin juice with everybody else, all the while swapping stories with Oliver about the last two years. After three wonderful hours the night came to an end and Harry found himself saying his goodbyes to everyone.

"How are you getting to the train, mate," asked Ron curiously. "Oh, I think my uncle Vernon would rather take me to King's Cross station than let Tonks and Mad-eye pick me up... from their house... in broad daylight," Harry said, with an eerie emphasis on the last part. They all laughed.


	2. Potter's Committee

Chapter 2: Potter's Committee

In the last two weeks before the start of term, Harry had little to do but stay cooped up in his room. For the first time in his life he felt content to do as the Dursleys wished knowing full well that, at his request, Mad-eye and company could bring their normal everyday lives to a screeching halt.

Understandably the Dursleys had acted normal around Marge, but after their trip to the States, Marge was gone and Harry had free reign on number 4 Privet Drive. Perhaps he felt sorry for them. Maybe it was the uneasy silence from his only living relatives who did, after all, take him in after his parents died because, rather than feel supreme as he could have, Harry felt subdued and preferred not to force his company on any of them.

In fact, he acted like an unobtrusive guest rather than the master he could have been, or the servant he use to be. Harry even decided to exchange a few galleons from his Gringott's vault for enough muggle money to buy taxi fare to King's Cross Station so that his uncle Vernon need not drive him there.

Harry spent the last day of the summer holidays at Diagon Alley with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, George, Bill, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and of course, Tonks. Curious to see what would happen if he ran into Draco Malfoy, Harry separated himself from the group, claiming that he had changed his mind about a purchase and that he would catch up to them in a few minutes.

Soon Harry found himself feet away from the entrance into Knockturn Alley. He looked around, knowing that any second now he would hear the drawling voice of Draco Malfoy. Instead he heard a woman's voice call his name.

He looked up to find a formidably looking witch he did not recognize approaching him and looking excited. "Hullo, so good to meet you... Harry Potter, as I live and breathe," she said eagerly and reached out a hand. Harry politely shook it, before he recognized the girl half hiding directly behind the witch.

Although Marietta Edgecombe did not meet Harry's gaze, he could tell that she looked terrified, almost tearful. He was forcibly reminded of Neville Longbottom and his grandmother, whom he had met at St. Mungo's, and oddly felt the same kind of pity for Marietta that he had for Neville, rather than the usual anger at the very thought of her.

Harry remembered something Cho had said last term about the situation Marietta was in because her mother worked in the Ministry of Magic, and how she was actually a lovely person. He didn't know how but he felt sure that Marietta had been suffering all summer and the feeling of pity intensified.

He smiled at her and said, quite casually, "Hullo Marietta," who then froze as her mother turned around to look at her. "I... had no idea you knew my daughter." Madam Edgecombe looked back at Harry. "Only by reputation; I hear she's a very bright student." He smiled at Marietta's mother.

For some reason Harry was enjoying this. It felt as though he and Marietta were sharing a private joke that her mother could not catch. Madam Edgecombe shot a sideways look at her daughter. "Well, I guess I was mistaken," she said in a would-be casual voice before turning back to Harry. She smiled and said, "It was a pleasure to meet you," again reaching out her hand. Again Harry took it and smiled, first at Madam Edgecombe, and then at Marietta.

"Was that the sneak?" whispered Tonks from somewhere to Harry's right. Harry nodded, still looking at Marietta and her mother walking away. "That was a nice thing to do, you know. I'm proud of you." "Thanks Tonks. I guess I'm not all that mad at them anymore," Harry said searchingly.

; )

The next day passed like a hazy daydream. Before he had realized it, he was back in his four-poster, fit to burst from the welcoming feast, bidding goodnight to Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus. Where had the day gone? Harry could hardly remember leaving Number 4 Privet Drive, or going through the barrier to Platform nine and three-quarters, or the train ride to Hogwarts.

And even though his attention was brought back by the shock of hearing Gabriel Delacour's name called to be sorted into Ravenclaw, he vaguely remembered a first year student named Mark Evans taking his turn under the school sorting hat and being pronounced a Gryffindor. He also only half heard Dumbledore's speech about the school Houses having more shared classes together in an effort to promote a feeling of school unity and inter-house cooperation.

Still amazed at how fast time seemed to be moving, Harry spent the whole of his first Transfiguration class in a stupor, his mind back at Ms. Figg's house, attempting to remember everything that had happened there before those memories also faded into an obscure blur like yesterday seem to have.

But his time spent with Ms. Figg and Tonks remained quite vivid in his head, and when the prom picture of Ms. Figg's niece came into focus, an absurd idea filled his brain. Harry rolled the thought around in his mind, turning it over and over. "No way... but maybe... if Fred and George... and we could, but where could it... and, what if... still, it could work."

The scraping of desk chairs told Harry that the class had just been dismissed. Harry imagined discussing his idea with Professor Dumbledore as he followed Ron and Hermione to the door, imagining what he would say and how Dumbledore would react.

But then he stopped and looked back at his Transfiguration teacher and head-of-house. She would be the one to ask, he thought, a reckless excitement filling him, and before he knew it, he had hurried back to Professor McGonagall, unnoticed by Ron or Hermione who continued all the way out of sight.

"Professor," he said nervously and she turned away from the blackboard to face him. "I have a suggestion... about what Professor Dumbledore said last night. You know, the bit about school unity..." Professor McGonagall eyed him suspiciously. "You may make suggestions Mr. Potter, but I won't make any promises," she said sharply. "Right," Harry said slowly, struggling to remember the words he had just mentally prepared for his headmaster.

Harry began. "Muggle schools have loads of socials, like the Yule Ball, only less formal and, er, grand." "Yes Mr. Potter, I am aware of that," she answered, but in a more patient voice. Harry went on. "Well, the school houses should try to cooperate more, right, so I was thinking... Gryffindor could sponsor a ball and invite the other houses. We could have it in an empty classroom or something."

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth slightly, as though to interrupt, but simply stared at him. "It wouldn't need to be fancy," Harry continued quickly, "and we could have teachers there, as chaperones. I mean, it would be a brilliant chance for the houses to socialize with each other, right?"

"And what would you do for music," she asked, a pondering look on her face. "We could use recordings from the Wizarding Wireless Network. Fred and George Weasley, you know, can supply them." At this Professor McGonagall looked at him suspiciously. "You would invite all of the houses then," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Harry answered plainly. "Very well Mr. Potter, I will ask the headmaster, and you will meet me at the end of dinner tomorrow with your proposal." "My... proposal?" "Certainly, I want to know, in writing, how you plan to address everything; when and where you're planning this ball... music, refreshments, how you intend to prevent ah, incidents from occurring."

"Right," Harry said weakly, wondering what on earth a proposal for a party was suppose to look like. "Thank you professor," he said quickly, and he was pleased to see a small smile from her when she nodded him off. Excited, Harry went straight to the owlery and sent a message to the Weasley Twins asking them how fast they could get their Portable Parties to him.

During dinner that evening Harry filled Ron and Hermione in on his idea. They both liked it and, although Ron had suggested not inviting the Slytherins, the subsequent argument that followed had produced an unexpected benefit.

By the time they reached the Gryffindor common room, Harry had explained his idea to Ginny, Dean, Parvati, Lavender, Katie Bell, and Colin and Dennis Creevey, all of whom seemed interested after overhearing Ron and Hermione's heated discussion and joined in the planning by adding their own ideas.

Katie had suggested a large classroom on the fourth floor, which was unused and had an excellent view of the lake. Parvati and Lavender started drafting the proposal and came up with the idea of having a _no wands_ security policy, while Dean, who was pretty good with a quill, volunteered to make animated flyers.

Ginny suggested asking Professor McGonagall for special permission to go into Hogsmeade for Butterbeer, and the Creevey brothers offered to set up a photo area to snap pictures for students who might want one as a souvenir.

The newly formed committee, Hermione among them, put off doing any homework for the evening to continue planning and, by midnight, had drafted what they thought was an excellent proposal. They decided to have it on the upcoming Friday for two reasons. It could serve as a back-to-school party for both students and teachers alike, and as is would be the first weekend of the school year, students were likely to have little homework queued up in their schedules thus far.

They also decided to make it a casual affair owing to the fact that it was not likely any of the students had packed their dress robes, and they all agreed that it might even be fun to go without house insignias and emblems that might discourage mingling with other houses. Indeed, Harry thought that asking which house one was in might be a good way to break the ice.

"Why didn't we use this classroom," Ron began, taking a precautionary look around, "for DA meetings, I mean. It's definitely big enough." "Because," Hermione began matter-of-factly, "it's too close to the staircase so anybody walking by would have heard all of the jinxes being cast back and forth. But it'll be perfect for Friday night. There are lavatories for both boys and girls right outside, and anybody walking by could have a look-in and see how much fun it is without going out of their way."

All in all they were pleased with the effort they had put into the proposal for their first ever Gryffindor Ball and it was the only thing they could think about during next day's lessons. They all thought it would be torture to have to tell anybody they might have mentioned it to that the ball wasn't going to happen after all and agreed not to mention it to anyone unless they received permission later that evening.

They all sat together at the Gryffindor Table, half exited, half terrified, and continuously shot anxious looks up at the staff table where Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore sat next to each other. When dinner concluded Harry and the rest of the committee straggled around until they were almost the last of the students left. Harry looked up at the staff table, which was now empty except for Professor McGonagall who was talking to their herbology teacher, Professor Sprout.

Harry rose from his seat, a feeling of excitement mingling with nerves in the pit of his stomach, while the others followed suit. When Harry reached the staff table, he realized that the distance between he and his fellow committee members had doubled in the short time it had taken for them to reach it.

The rest of the committee all seemed to be in silent agreement that Harry should do all of the talking, but he was sure at least that Hermione would not let him get shot down alone. She had always been in Professor McGonagall's favor and had put as much effort into this proposal as any of the others.

This lifted his confidence and, after a moment, Professors McGonagall and Sprout finished talking. Harry took a deep calming breath before Professor McGonagall turned to him. She took an appraising look at everyone behind him before she spoke. "Is that your proposal Mr. Potter," she asked, looking down at the roll of parchment in his hands. "We all helped come up with it," he replied.

"Very well then, all of you follow me," and turning, Professor McGonagall walked along the staff table towards a side chamber. Harry remembered the only other time he had approached this door, after a charred bit of parchment bearing his name had been regurgitated by the Goblet of Fire and, although the present circumstances were quite different, Harry felt the same nerves and uncertainty he had felt then, but gladly, the other emotions, those of shock and dread, were not here this time.

Professor McGonagall placed spectacles on herself and unrolled the parchment. Harry watched her eyes dart across the parchment. To his left Hermione had quietly walked up beside him, shortly followed by Ron to his right.

Harry crossed his fingers in his pockets and, with a backward glance at the others, thought some of them were thinking along the same lines. He noticed more than a few people with hidden hands and saw Ron's tighten beneath folded arms.

At long last their head-of-house looked up from the proposal and glanced around at them before her eyes settled on Harry, who stared back numbly. Slowly Professor McGonagall smiled at him. Instantly a feeling of excitement filled the small room as Harry and his classmates looked at each other in thrilled disbelief.

"I think we are going to have our first ever Gryffindor Ball," Professor McGonagall announced, smiling at the children again as they let out a cheer. Hermione regained her composure first and restored order by clearing her throat. All eyes fell back on Professor McGonagall, who continued.

"Now we don't have much time if you want to do this on Friday so we'll need to begin preparations at once. I need to see your notices and invitations tomorrow, before they are presented to the school. I will have special permissions for those who will be going to Hogsmeade; I think, no more than two or three students can handle the job, with a teacher of course. The forth floor classroom will need a lot of work so start on that straight away, won't you." Professor McGonagall gave them one last smile and left the room to many grateful cheers.

"I'm gonna start on the classroom," said Katie Bell enthusiastically, and the others agreed eagerly. They all half ran up the marble stairs to many confused looks from some of the students, ghosts, portraits, and suits of armor they encountered along the way. Harry thought the room was fairly large and would be quite adequate even if half the school showed up.

Katie went strait to the covered windows that lined the wall, pulling out her wand as she did so, and immediately disappeared behind one of the thick, dark curtains that had hung undisturbed for years. They took a moment to appraise the classroom, taking in the pile of furniture and odd supplies that had claimed it for itself.

"We should start by clearing it out, then we'll have a better idea of what we've got to work with," said Ron. A murmur of agreement preceded the semi-organized dismantling of desks and chairs stacked pell-mell in the center of their would-be ballroom.

After about twenty minutes Katie reemerged looking quite pleased. She took a quick count of bodies before smiling and, with two waves of her wand, caused the huge double-doors to slam shut. A few people gasped in surprise and looked around. Katie waved her wand once more and all the candles in the room went out, plunging them into total darkness and drawing yet more gasps.

Harry heard footsteps run lightly behind him before he heard Katie cast one more spell and, without warning, brilliant moonlight flooded the entire room as the four great curtains flew open. They had to blink repeatedly while their eyes readjusted to the sudden light after the pitch black darkness they had just been in.

"Wow," said Parvati and Lavender together. Harry stared at the windows, which seemed slightly blurred by the intense light coming from both the moon above as well as its light reflecting off the lake below. He walked up to one of the great windows and, half-entranced, surveyed the panoramic, breath held and eyes wide.

Still in awe Harry turned around and was surprised to meet Hermione's stare, just as astounded, yet with an odd twinkle in her eyes, as though halfway in a dream; she seemed to have followed him to the window. "Didn't I tell you this place'd be perfect," asked Katie blissfully. But Harry's thoughts were suddenly preoccupied with Hermione's dreamy look, which seem hesitant to release him.

Finally however, she blinked and they both seem to come out of whatever it was that held them. "What—yeah, it's excellent," he replied, quickly turning to Katie. A muffled panic fell through him and at once he shot glances at the others. Had anyone seen him staring at Hermione? But it looked as though no one had for everyone was at the windows now, entranced no doubt, in exactly the same way as he had been.

Nobody paid much attention to the time as they continued to work feverishly; moving desks and chairs, levitating boxes, and magically scrubbing the walls and curtains clean. Suddenly Harry remembered the war that had been waged on Grimmauld Place and so many sad, sorry feelings filled him.

He had stopped the controlled scrubbing motions he had been making with his wand, although he was not aware of it. Images flashed pass and left an empty feeling in their wake. There was the damp, dilapidated bedroom he and Ron had shared at number twelve. He could hear the horrible, wretched screaming of Mrs. Black.

Now he was in front of the table in the basement kitchen and he could hear Kreacher laughing from somewhere behind him. Harry closed his eyes and saw Sirius' family tree quite clearly, as though its image had been attached to the back of his eyelids.

Then he felt a hand touch his shoulder and, startled, turned quickly away from the hand to face its owner. Once again Harry found himself staring into Hermione's face, but this time she was wearing a look somewhere between fear and concern. Harry glanced around, dreading the watchful gazes of his fellow Gryffindors that he was sure he'd see this time, and vaguely noticed Hermione do the same. No one however, seemed to have noticed this occasion either.

"Why don't you go back to the dormitory Harry, you've got a long day tomorrow... Hogsmeade, you know. We can carry on." Harry nodded, not wanting to speak. Although this simple, friendly gesture of concern made him feel much better, he decided to leave anyway in order to avoid another relapse of memories, bidding them all goodnight before heading out.

With a last look back at Hermione, who was looking a bit apprehensive now, Harry closed the doors slowly, still trying to decide whether or not he would actually go off to bed because he did not much feel like doing so. No, there was still about an hour until nine o'clock and a wrestles feeling was engulfing him now. Instead of going up towards Gryffindor tower, he headed down, unsure exactly where he was going, yet quickening his pace as he when on.

He jogged silently through the Entrance Hall and right out the oak front doors and onto the cold and soggy grounds. He thought of Hagrid and heard, "He died in battle, an' tha's the way he'd've wanted ter go..." which made him turn away from the small hut and, instead, towards the lake, still reflecting moonlight vibrantly.

Automatically it seemed Harry soon found himself sitting well hidden in the same cluster of bushes where he had hid in the closing days of last term. He swelled with sorrow inside until finally, his eyes closed, pulled off his glasses, and he buried his head into his arms folded over his knees.

Harry awoke quite suddenly and immediately lifted his head. He replaced his glasses and looked up at the moon, which had moved quite a bit from where Harry had seen it last, and knew that the time was well past nine o'clock by now. His rump was cold and numb but the rest of his body felt oddly comfortable, and he was surprised to realize that he hadn't fallen over in all this time.

He felt a heavy weight fall from his shoulders as got to his feet and, looking down, saw that it was a dark cloak. Harry stared at it for a moment, and then looked around hastily, half-expecting to see someone walking away, Hermione perhaps, but there was no one around. Nobody knows I come here, he thought, picking up the cloak and examining it more closely. It had no insignias and there was nothing extra ordinary about it. In fact, to Harry, it looked more like a muggle coat than a cloak.

Cautiously Harry made his way back to the castle and was extremely thankful when he finally entered his house common room, only having stopped twice on the way to hide from patrolling prefects. When the portrait hole closed behind him, someone dozing in one of the armchairs by the fireplace awoke with a start and got up quickly.

"Harry, is that you?" whispered Hermione through the dimness, "where have you been?" She ran lightly to him and winced when her foot collided hard with her school bag on the floor. "Ron said you weren't in bed. I thought you might have wanted to be alone so I told him that you had to go up to the owlery to write something to Fred and George. He was pretty tired so he went off to bed straight away."

Harry's insides had not yet fully drained of the nerves that had filled them at the thought of being caught out of bounds this late at night when he began to feel warm inside, and he knew it had nothing to do with the heat from the fireplace.

"I'm alright now... thanks," he said, slowly smiling. "Good," said Hermione simply. She turned and walked gingerly to her bag on the floor. Harry rushed over and picked it up for her. "I'll walk you," he said brightly, swinging it over his shoulder. Hermione smiled and nodded.

When they reached the stairs to the girls' dormitories, Hermione took her bag and gave the cloak in Harry's other hand a quizzical look. "Get some rest, okay," she said wearily. She did not wait for an answer but instead, leaned over and kissed his cheek before turning and disappearing up the girls' staircase.


	3. The New Prediction

Chapter 3: The New Prediction

When Harry awoke the following morning, he felt well rested and did not immediately remember everything that had happened the night before. It wasn't until he reached for his glasses on his bedside table that he felt the dark, heavy cloak beneath them and fully recalled the previous evening.

The dormitory door opened and Ron looked in. "Good, you're awake. Hermione wanted me to get you up now or she says you won't have time to eat anything before lessons." Harry groaned, lazily dismounted his bed, and walked over to his trunk. "I'll catch you up at breakfast—I'll only be a minute."

After the door closed and Harry had gotten dressed, the cloak by his bedside table caught his eye as he turned to leave and he remembered Hermione's puzzled look, then he brought his hand up to his cheek and smiled.

Harry made his way quickly to the great hall after having reached the common room twice only to realize that he had forgotten, first his school bag, and then his wand. When Harry finally reached the Gryffindor table, he spotted Ron and Hermione with the other committee members and took a seat opposite them, next to Dean.

Harry glanced at Hermione expecting to find her still looking concerned, but instead found her buried in the latest edition of the Daily Prophet. "Look at this Harry," said Dean, holding open his bag to show the flyer he had been working on. "It looks brilliant," Harry said.

Parvati half leaned across Harry's lap to get a closer look. "It does look good," she said approvingly. "Don't forget, Professor McGonagall has to approve that before you can post it," said Hermione in what Harry thought was an overly harsh tone than the offense deemed. "I know Hermione, I just wanted to show Harry, nobody else saw," Dean replied, closing his bag and looking disgruntled.

Ron said something to Hermione under his breath and the pair of them got up with a look at Harry to follow suit. But Harry knew Hermione had been up late last night and might have gotten more sleep if he hadn't worried her so. He felt he needed to apologize for Hermione's bad mood even if he hadn't asked her to wait up for him.

"Sorry about Hermione," Harry said to Dean when he was sure the noise of all the rising students would keep anyone else from overhearing him. "I asked her to help me with some homework but I turned up late so, I wasted her time." "Well, that'd explain it," Dean said half laughing, "It's not a secret how she takes homework."

Harry nodded but then heard Parvati make a derisive noise, and he turned to her. "What are you smiling at," Harry asked semi-defensively. "You," she answered with a shrugged and a smile. Parvati's buttered piece of toast caught his eye and, as he hadn't eaten anything yet, suddenly felt famished.

Parvati must have seen him eyeing her toast because she quickly offered it to him. "You can have this, if you like," she said, taking his hand and handing it to him. Surprised, he thankfully accepted, and noticed her glance at Hermione, who looked away.

Harry felt he had been right to think he was to blame for Hermione's bad mood because she scarcely said anything to him through their first lessons, and even declined accompanying him and Ron into Hogsmeade for the butterbeer run.

Harry had little appetite during lunch because Hermione avoided even looking in his direction, hidden behind the Daily Prophet the whole time, which upset him for some reason. And so it continued for the rest of the day so that, by dinnertime, Harry did not much feel like going to Hogsmeade and instead, placed Ginny in charge of procuring the butterbeer, as it had been her idea to begin with.

When Harry arrived at the Gryffindor table for dinner, he was surprised to learn that Ron had gone down to Hogsmeade despite him and Hermione's absence. Harry hesitated before finally deciding to just apologize to Hermione for the worry he put her through, even though he felt she was equally to blame. "Can I sit down here," he said to Hermione, indicating her schoolbag on the bench next to her. He noticed Parvati grow very still and knew she was listening.

"Of course," answered Hermione politely, moving her schoolbag. "Do you know why Ron wanted to go down to Hogsmeade with Ginny," asked Harry, also politely. "Ginny and Dean," Hermione said, emphasizing Dean's name and sounding quite amused. "Oh," he laughed slightly. Hermione grinned and all of a sudden Harry wasn't sure he still needed to apologize. Hermione's bad temper, whatever it was, seemed to be gone.

When Ron, Ginny, and Dean turned up empty handed a half hour later, they were greeted with looks of shock and worry. "Relax," Ginny said slowly, "it's all at Hagrid's hut now. He went down with us to Hogsmeade and offered to keep it safe—you know, until Friday."

They joined the committee members and attacked what was left of dinner. "Hey Hermione, I wanted to know," asked Dean almost laughing a few minutes later, "if it's alright if I show Harry the flyer now." Hermione glared at Dean, but it was sprinkled with a hint of embarrassment. "Of course, I'm not going to stop you, and I'm sorry for snapping at you this morning... it wasn't right." Dean smiled and said, "That's okay, Harry told me he ah, stood you up for your study date last night."

Everyone in the near vicinity seemed to have stopped whatever it was they were doing as a dead silence followed this statement. Ron and Ginny looked at Harry and Hermione. Hermione blinked but very quickly inclined her head with a mildly interested look and said, slightly laughing, "Very funny Dean, that's a good one," at which point she looked at Harry who, following her lead, also began to laughed.

"I guess you can make it up to me by taking me to the ball then Harry," Hermione laughed, but Harry wasn't as naive about these things anymore and joined in the fun. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, I'm taking Parvati," Harry said in a mock serious tone. Harry thought the look on Parvati's face alone was worth the effort of playing this game.

For a moment Hermione looked just as shocked as the rest of the people watching, but then she snorted and quickly replied, "Well, it's back to my backup plan then. I guess I'll have to write to Viktor." By now a lot of people were laughing and Harry saw, with a feeling of satisfaction, Parvati and Dean exchanging confused looks before the pair of them reluctantly joined in the mirth.

Harry grinned when Parvati glanced at him because she was still looking a little shocked. Hermione began calming herself down, taking deep gulps of pumpkin juice to do so. Harry, still grinning, turned back to Dean. "So, you finish the flyer, then? Can I have a look," Harry asked, the laughter dieing down now.

After dinner Harry and Dean went to see Professor McGonagall while the others returned to the forth floor classroom to finish the cleaning and begin the decorating. When Harry and Dean had finished speaking to Professor McGonagall, they headed up to the forth floor classroom with the newly approved notices and invites. Professor McGonagall had magically multiplied them so that they could be posted on most of the school's notice boards and said she would take some to the other heads-of-house to be posted in their common rooms.

When they entered the forth floor classroom some fifteen minutes later, Harry noticed at once that Hermione was not there. "Hey, do you know where Hermione is?" he asked the closest person, Parvati Patil. "No. Last I saw her she was waiting for you and Dean after dinner." Harry looked around for a moment before Parvati spoke again. "Harry," she said timidly. "What," he snapped, irritated now because he was suddenly feeling worried.

"Nothing," she said flatly, and she stamped away fuming. To that, Harry's initial reaction was "so what". But then Harry's second thought came faster and stronger than his first impulse so that, before he knew it, he had caught up to Parvati and had cut in front of her so that she almost walked right into him. Facing her he could see now that she looked more hurt than angry.

Harry suddenly remembered something Tonks had told him. "When you apologize, you have to be able to show it in your face." He looked into Parvati's face and tried to say sorry with only his expression. She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly, laughing slightly, and Harry had a strong feeling that she was laughing at herself.

"I forgot to thank you for the toast," Harry said. "Well," said Parvati, suddenly looking, in Harry's opinion, a little malevolent, "you can save me a dance then." She eyed him as she walked passed, still looking a little evil but quite pretty all-the-same and he quite forgot about his worries for a moment.

When Hermione turned up with Ron and Ginny a half-hour later, Harry was both relieved and perturbed. "Sorry", said Ginny at once, catching the look on Harry's face, "we had a prefects' meeting."

Harry had forgotten that Ginny was a prefect now and immediately realized that he no longer wanted to stay on the subject. "No problem, you guys can help here now and I can go put up posters." And with that Harry and Dean departed.

When they returned to the Gryffindor common room an hour later, it was to find it buzzing with excitement and Harry guessed at once what all the chatter must be about. When the room at large saw Harry, they let out a cheer. "Nice one Harry," said a boy from somewhere in the crowd, and they cheered their agreement.

"This is exactly what we need," said one of Ginny's fifth-year friends. Harry grinned at Dean and the pair of them walked up to the notice board; the group of students parted to make way for them. He and Dean attached their last poster and took a moment to admire the moving drawings before walking away, grinning from ear to ear.

After about ten minutes of answering questions from their fellow Gryffindors, Harry felt the effects of hardly eating all day and decided to go up to bed early. The second he entered his dormitory, the sight of the cloak he had found pushed his fleeting thoughts of homework entirely out of his mind and he made a beeline to his bedside.

Harry eyed the cloak curiously before picking it up to examine. It looked as if it belonged to someone taller and broader than him, but when he tried it on it seemed to fit him perfectly, even the length was perfect. Again his whole body felt quite comfortable and the cloak did not feel as heavy as when he simply held it.

Harry smoothed the front of it and found the pockets. He plunged his hands into them hoping to find some sort of clue as to who its owner was, but they were empty. Harry walked around his dormitory five times, half thinking, half watching his reflection in the mirrors, before finally removing the cloak and replacing it onto his bedside table.

Harry's fatigue overpowered the temporary comfort he had been enjoying and he collapsed into bed fully expecting to fall right into unconsciousness when, without warning, his scar seared with pain and he sat bolt upright. He withdrew his wand, taking shallow breaths as he took in the darker parts of the room.

He closed his eyes, trying hard to ignore the pain, but his body seemed to be protesting the fact that he was no longer laying down and it throbbed along with his scar. Pain erupted once more and Harry was a little relieved to realize that Voldermort, wherever he was, was angry, as opposed to pleased. Harry's body shivered again and he desperately reached for the heavy cloak, this time wrapping it around himself like a blanket.

The feeling of comfort returned and Harry tried once more to ignore his burning scar. Little by little the pain ebbed away until he was no longer drawing sharp gasps, but breathing deeply and slowly. Harry removed the cloak and felt light headed when he tossed it aside.

Then he removed his glasses and, without changing, got under his covers and began to clear his mind. This is why I learned occlumency, said a determined voice inside his head. Harry cleared his mind and was unaware of how much time had passed before exhaustion took over and he drifted off to sleep.

Harry awoke the next morning feeling quite peaceful and knew he had not had bad dreams. It worked, said that same determined voice. Harry sat up and looked around expecting his dormitory to be empty but for himself once more, but the room was still very dark and the curtains of the other beds were still drawn shut.

Harry got up, quietly changed out of his wrinkled clothes, and crept down to the common room to take a seat by the fireplace. He pointed his wand and flames burst into life inside it. Why was Voldermort angry? Why, after all this time, had he exploded with rage? Did the Order stop another plan? Did he just realize another scheme would not work? These questions fully occupied Harry's thoughts so that he felt as if he were stuck in Dumbledore's pensive with only these thoughts to keep him company.

After a while, the telltale sounds from above told Harry that other Gryffindors were starting to wake. He extinguished the fire with another wave of his wand and walked back up the stairs to his dormitory to find the curtains of the other four-posters still closed, although their occupants were groggily stirring and mumbling.

"Ron," he said in a low voice, snatching up his schoolbag from beside his bedside. Ron groaned. "I'll meet you at the Great hall," he said in a slow whisper. Ron grunted twice and Harry took that to mean "yes". He left Gryffindor tower and hurried down the marble staircase, not stopping once until he finally reached the entrance hall.

"Bonjour Meester Potter," said a small voice to his right. Harry turned and saw a first-year girl with long silvery hair in Ravenclaw robes. "Hullo Gabrielle," he said smiling. Harry knew that Gabrielle had been quite taken with him after he and Ron had brought her to shore at the end of the second Tri-Wizard task, but he also knew that there was something about her that had always put him in good spirits, although he thought it could just be the Veela in her.

"I was a bit surprised when I heard your name at the sorting," Harry confessed, "how do you like Hogwarts so far?" Gabrielle smile weakly and stared at the ground as though unsure how to answer. "It can't be that bad, can it," Harry asked in as soothing a voice as he had. Gabrielle looked up, "I 'ave much to lern, but I zink my eenglish iz improving, no?"

Harry grinned, but this was more because he found her French accent very cute, as well as befitting to the younger sister of the enchanting Fleur Delacour. "So," he continued, turning towards the Great Hall and offering his arm to her the way he knew gentlemen would.

Gabrielle wrapped her tiny hands around Harry's outstretched arm and they began to walk. "I thought you'd be going to Beauxbaton Academy, like your sister—how is she by the way?" Gabrielle thought for a moment. "I came to Eengland to live wit 'er over ze summer. I liked it so much zat Fleur, she sez I should come to 'Ogwarts, and she would be close by. Madame Maxime, she wuz un'appy of course, but my muzzer zinks it iz a good idea."

"Have you made many friends yet," Harry asked, unsure how she had been received thus far. Her sister, Harry knew, had been disfavored by the majority of the school by the time the third Tri-Wizard task had come. "Yes, zer iz one girl in my 'ouse, she is vairy nice to me. She noz my sister," she said, gazing at him intently.

He considered this. Of course, he thought, because when they were guests in his forth year, the Beauxbaton students had their meals with Ravenclaw house. "I'm glad to hear it," he said. Gabrielle sat down at the Ravenclaw table and bowed her head slightly. "Thank you Moisir Potter," she said.

Harry clicked his tongue in disapproval; a habit he had picked up from both Hedwig and Tonks. "Call me Harry alright, all my friends do, unless you do not zink I am a friend?" Harry said the last bit in his best mock French accent. Gabrielle giggled, "Of course I do, do not be silly. Vairy well zen, 'Arry it iz."

She bowed her head again, this time looking very smug. "If you need anything you be sure to ask me, okay," he insisted. She smiled again as she nodded and Harry saw her resemblance to her sister Fleur more than ever.

Harry walked over by the staff table thinking he would sit near in case Professor McGonagall wanted his attention when, for the second time that morning, someone timidly called his name. Harry turned and saw yet another first-year student, this one from his own house, as well as his own neighborhood.

Standing some ten feet away, the boy looked as though he was waiting for permission to approach. "Hullo Mark," Harry said with a friendly gesture to come over. The boy looked relieved and answered, "Oh, you do know who I am. I was pretty sure it was you, but I didn't know if you remembered me."

"How do you like it so far," Harry asked, looking up at the ceiling, which revealed a gray, cloudy morning, "the castle, the classes, the fact that you're a wizard?" "I'm okay I guess. It's all pretty hard for me to believe still," he sighed. "It's probably harder for your parents to believe," Harry pointed out.

He knew that there weren't any other wizards around his neighborhood, and because Mark was from there, he concluded that Mark was just like Hermione in that sense; both of her parents weren't magic folk either. "I hadn't thought of that," said Mark, bemused.

"How are your classmates," Harry continued, remembering his first memories with Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville. "Oh... they like me, I think," and then he paused, "but I think someone's winding me up. Some of my stuff disappears now and then. Sometimes something missing will turn up again, although the chocolate frog cards that vanished haven't yet."

"Oh," said Harry, a bit sympathetic. Mark shrugged. "What was your first year like?" Harry told Mark about his first days at the school and it didn't seem to surprise the young boy at all when he told him about how Professor Snape treated him.

"He's as bad as Dudley Dursley, that one," Mark said bitterly, and then gasped, clapping a hand to his mouth. He stuttered, "I'm sorry Harry, I forgot." Mark appeared worried now and looked poised to jump off the bench and run.

Harry shrugged. "Well, there's no denying I'm related to that boxing pig—and believe me, I always try. But I can help you with Dudley. Just let him glimpse that wand of yours one day and tell him I taught you how to make him grow another tail." Harry grinned, reminiscing. "He'll leave you alone then." "Really," Mark said in awe, and they both laughed.

Harry didn't notice the hundred or so students, who had already taken their seats, until he heard their muffled excitement and saw the extra measure of movement up and down the house tables that told him, quite plainly, that the posters he and Dean had put up the previous evening had done their job.

The other committee members entered the Great Hall together looking very pleased, yet nervous all-the-same. Mark said a quick good-bye to Harry when some other first-year Gryffindors hailed him, a few of which looked shocked to see whom Mark had been speaking with.

The rest of the committee took seats around Harry and, although there was a great deal of glancing around, clearing of throats, and false coughing, no one said anything outside of morning pleasantries.

"What," Harry asked, finally growing tired of the subtle, unasked questions that were the small noises from his companions. It was Hermione who answered. "Well, we were just wondering about the music," she said casually, "Do you know when it's supposed to arrive?"

Harry returned to his food. "No idea," he said honestly. There was a short silence in which everyone looked around at each other. "Fred and George would have told me if there was a problem," Harry said flatly.

Ron began refilling his plate with sausages. "Harry's right," he said. "My brothers are professionals now. They won't mess this up." Hermione looked a little skeptical but said nothing. "It'll be fine," Ginny said dismissively, and she too reloaded breakfast onto her plate.

Looking none too consoled the others continued to eat in silence, which was fine with Harry because, at the sight of Professor Dumbledore, his thoughts about his scar returned and he knew he should tell him about it.

"I'll catch you guys up," Harry said to Ron and Hermione after he had finished his breakfast, but when he turned to the staff table, his heart sank at the sight of the empty headmaster's seat. He briefly struggled with the idea of letting the matter wait until lunchtime, or else, going to Professor Dumbledore's office now.

He decided on the former, thinking that, if Voldermort was as angry as Harry felt, then Dumbledore probably had the upper hand at the moment, and that the Order need not hear of his scar hurting straight away.

All afternoon it seemed, the school buzzed with talk about the upcoming Gryffindor Ball, but Harry noticed that it wasn't all enthusiasm. One group of students he passed on the way back from the bathrooms seemed to think it would be no fun at all and a complete waste of time.

Harry paused, feeling slightly offended. It was, after all, his idea and to hear someone criticize it as if it had already failed made him feel defensive, rather like he had just been falsely accused of some crime.

Harry suddenly remembered a time he had been blamed and punished by Aunt Petunia after Dudley had taken candy without permission. When his cousin confessed to him later that evening, laughing as he did, Harry was so angry that, much to his and Dudley's surprise, red stripes appeared on Dudley's face, making him resemble ribbon candy for several frightening hours.

He stopped walking and his grip on the strap of his school bag tightened as his other hand found his wand. He took an angry step back towards the students, turning as he did, right into a fifth-year Ravenclaw girl with blond hair and protuberant eyes.

Luna fell to the ground and Harry's anger instantly dissolved into guilt. "I'm sorry Luna," he said quickly, kneeling down to help her up. She accepted his help almost pleasantly and began to gather her things. "I'm alright," she said.

There was an awkward silence in which Luna eyed the wand still in one of his hands. Harry noticed this and put it away casually. "Are you coming to our ball tomorrow night," he asked suddenly. Her head tilted sideways rather dreamily.

"It sound's like fun," she answered, and almost as an afterthought added, "everyone in the DA will be there, I think. There's nothing but a quidditch meeting tomorrow after dinner so... I'll be free. I'll see you then, I suppose." Harry stared after Luna as she walked away. The DA would be coming? Then he laughed to himself, realizing that inter-house cooperation wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"Good morning Mr. Potter." The mystical sounding voice was instantly recognizable to Harry. His face automatically contorted in silent anguish, and he had to force it to straighten before he could turn around. "Good morning Professor Trelawney," he replied.

"I see that you have chosen not to pursue further, the art of divination. I suspect that hearing of one's doom constantly would drive anyone to abandon hopes for a better outcome. Perhaps it is for the best." "Right," Harry lied. "I do however think you should allow—"

Professor Trelawney froze and went very rigged, and Harry knew what was about to happen. Her eyes rolled back and she began to fall over. Harry caught her and was able to keep her on her feet as she began to speak in a rough, harsh voice. "The Darklord's favor shall assume the task, to rid him of the boy who could be his undoing. But a single hope lies in four separate parts, each touched by the boy, they may draw on his power. One reverent, one equal, one unrequited, one solace—only when these four are joined will they have strength enough to stop the Darklord's favor. Only when the four parts join."

She shook her head and brought a hand to her temple, swaying slightly and giving Harry an unsteady look. She straightened up and when she spoke, her voice was mystical sounding once more. "Pardon me for my distraction. As I was saying, I think you should allow me to continue to look into your future, just as a reminder of things to come. One should always prepare for the worst, you know." She smiled and walked away.

Harry struggled to remember the scene he had just witnessed as he ran down the halls towards the statue of the gargoyle he knew all too well. "Fizzing Whizbee," he half-shouted, but nothing happened. A few things suddenly occurred to him. The password could have been changed, and even if it hadn't, it might only open to visitors if the headmaster was inside.

Harry cursed, another bad habit he had picked up from Tonks when, as if in response to the obscenity he had just uttered, the gargoyle sprang to life. Harry dropped his bag, jumped back and drew his wand, all in a single motion, but then he saw a very familiar girl standing on the other side of the secret door, now opening.

Cho Chang did not notice him at first; she seemed quite engaged in thought with eyes downcast. Harry hid his hands and wand behind his back just as she looked up. Her expression, surprised at first, softened almost instantly. "Were you coming to see professor Dumbledore," she asked pleasantly.

"Yes, I was," he said, picking up his bag and walking up to her. "Are you alright Harry?" Cho asked, concern evident from behind her dark eyes, "You look a little pale." "I'm okay, I just have to tell Professor Dumbledore something, that's all," he said, struggling to appear calm. He noticed that Cho also looked a bit anxious.

"Harry," she began tentatively, but then she paused. "I guess I'll see you around, then," she finally said, and she walked off, her shiny pony tail swinging and catching Harry's eye as usual. After all this time, Harry realized, its familiar hypnotic affect had never lost its appeal to him.

The stone gargoyle creaked ominously and he quickly walked through the secret door that led to the spiraling steps. He was just about to reach for the griffin shaped knocker when the door opened and Dumbledore froze in the act of walking through it.

"Ah, Harry, what a pleasant surprise, I've been meaning to commend you on your excellent idea..." Dumbledore paused catching the look on Harry's face. "However, you look as though you have something you wish to discuss."

Professor Dumbledore stepped aside and motioned for Harry to enter. When he did he noticed his charms teacher, Professor Flitwick gathering some things. After his Flitwick had departed, Harry proceeded to tell Dumbledore all about his scar hurting last night and his encounter with Professor Trelawney. His memory however, failed him.

"Harry, I need to know the exact words Cybil used, otherwise I might draw wrong conclusions. Can you remember them?" Harry's heart sank, "No professor, I'm sorry." Dumbledore glanced at one of his cabinets. "Not to worry Harry, have a seat, and don't put your wand away just yet."

When Dumbledore reached the desk he was carrying a shallow basin encircled with runes and filled with a shimmering liquid. Harry quite forgot his worries for a moment and felt a small rush of excitement as Dumbledore quickly taught him how to extract his memory to add to the pensive.

Soon they were watching the small figure of Professor Trelawney going into her trance and making her latest prediction. They listened and watched her twice more before spending the next several minutes in silent thought.

"Do you have any clue what these four parts could be Harry?" asked Dumbledore. Harry felt the same penetrating look from his headmaster that he usually received whenever he asked him something very serious. "No idea professor," he said somberly.

There was a knock on the door and Dumbledore sighed, looking up. "Come in Cornelius." Harry stood up quickly, "I'll go back to class." Dumbledore smiled and nodded, also rising from his seat, but with no hint of panic, which reminded Harry that the Ministry of Magic had already accepted his and Dumbledore's story. Harry laughed at himself.

Cornelius Fudge stopped halfway as he met Harry. "Hello Harry," he said, fidgeting with his green bowler hat as he held it to his tummy. "Hullo minister," he replied. He turned to excuse himself, first to his headmaster, then back to Fudge. "Professor, Minister." He nodded to each in turn and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Harry had to be alone. He thought about it for a moment before deciding to go down to the kitchens to grab some lunch to eat away from the Great Hall and the rest of the school. As before, after he had heard a prophecy concerning himself, he felt the seeming weight of his destiny and wanted desperately to be alone.

He felt cold inside and knew that it had nothing to do with being outdoors. Harry thought of the cloak back in his dormitory and briefly regretted not having it with him now. When he reached the lake, he quickly found his usual spot hidden in a cluster of bushes and trees and began pulling out food.

Not really paying any attention to what he was systematically stuffing into his mouth, Harry's mind continued to work almost randomly on the prophecy which marked him, Professor Trelawney's new prediction, and the upcoming ball.

"Where have you been, mate," asked Ron when Harry finally turned up after lunch. "I went to see Professor Dumbledore." Hermione looked up at him from the parchment she had been writing on and Harry knew she was expecting more of an explanation. Since Harry hadn't told them yet about the prophecy that Dumbledore had shown him at the end of last term, he decided not to tell them about this latest prediction either.

Instead he picked a subject that they were sure to be used to by now. "My scar hurt last night," he said blandly. "Why didn't you tell us at breakfast," asked Hermione, sounding a bit hurt. "I didn't think it was a big deal really... Voldermort was really mad so I thought the order foiled him or something."

"So why did you go to Dumbledore if you didn't think it was a bid deal?" There was a steely note in Hermione's voice that offended him. They glared at each other for a moment before Professor Flitwick began Charms class and ended their stare-off.

Harry however, had other things to worry about. He hadn't yet heard from Fred and George and he was now feeling the early stages of panic and despair. What if the music didn't come? He habitually assumed that Fred and George's lack of news was a positive sign. They normally only complained when they had a problem, and were quite content to work in undisturbed peace when all was well. But if the music didn't turn up in time, the whole ball would be ruined.

Harry was the first to reach the forth floor classroom after dinner that night. Thinking that he would worry less if he kept himself busy, Harry began putting up decorations almost at random. Someone came in and Harry ran one hand through his rumpled hair, intending to pull it hard in frustration.

"You don't have to tell me," Harry said sardonically, "the music's not here yet and everyone thinks it's my fault." Hermione's lack of reaction made Harry drop his sarcastic pretense. "The music will be here tomorrow," she said quietly, "Ginny's just heard from Fred and George."

Harry felt a sudden surge of gratitude towards her and then realized that there was something more pressing on her mind. Detecting one of those inevitable discussions one is bound to have when at odds with a friend or loved one, he decided that the sooner it started, the sooner it could end. "What's up," he asked, resigned to the worst.

Hermione walked to one of the great windows. "It's just that... you've been distant with me... and Ron, and Ginny for that matter." Harry, who had been following her, stopped, half-shocked. "That's not true... I still tell you everything," he protested, before he remembered both the Prophecy and the new prediction that he now kept from his two best friends. That's personal, said a little voice inside him, and he wholeheartedly felt justified.

"I was disappointed when you couldn't make it to the quidditch match for my birthday, but I never doubted that you wanted to come." "That's different," she said automatically. "And all summer long," he continued, "I wanted to talk to you about Cho but—" Hermione cut him off, "Leave Cho out of this," she warned him, and Harry felt taken aback.

Hermione bit her lower lip, looking somewhat upset. He let it drop. "Go on then," he said a moment later. "Ask me whatever you like." She hesitated, shifting uncomfortably, and Harry folded his arms impatiently. "All right," she began, her voice rising in response to his outward show of irritation. "Who gave you that cloak; what did Dumbledore say about your scar hurting; and who are you taking to the ball?"

The last question threw him off momentarily but he recovered, realizing that it was probably just thrown in as an afterthought. "I don't know who gave me that cloak... someone put it on me when I nodded off outside that night; Dumbledore didn't have any ideas about why my scar hurt; and I'm not taking anyone to the ball." Then he coolly added, "You and Ron are still the closest people to me, whether you know it or not." Hermione went pink.

Harry decided to give her a friendly hug, more because her reaction would tell him if she believed him or not, but also because it felt as though they had just made up and it seemed the proper thing to do. She relaxed almost instantly in his arms, even before they had made it all the way around her, and Harry, surprised at her reaction, felt a strong urge to extend his brief gesture into a prolonged embrace.

He had just registered a fragrance about her when she gasped suddenly and pulled away. "Ron and Ginny," she whispered, shifting slightly in front of Harry's shoulder to hide her mouth, "Don't look." Harry felt nervous for some reason, perhaps because of the way Hermione was reacting; as though they had just narrowly escaped expulsion.

"Did they see us—" he began, but Hermione cut him off. "No, I saw the door opening first," she hissed, absentmindedly fiddling with a lock of her bushy hair. "I don't want to take any chances. Ron might misunderstand, you know. Talk about your scar hurting again," she said.

Harry did as she suggested and the ploy seemed to work. When Ron and Ginny reached them, he was just getting to the part about his scar. Ron opened his mouth but Hermione raised a finger, looking as though she was contemplating something.

Then she turned to Ginny as though intending to ask her something, opened her mouth, but then merely frowned. She appeared to clear her head with a shake and then sighed. "Why weren't you at the prefects' meeting," Ginny asked her, eyeing Harry as she finished her question.

"I caught some students dueling, and then I went and fetched Professor McGonagall," she explained, catching all of them by surprise. "Slytherin," Ron assumed, and Hermione nodded. "And one from Ravenclaw. Anyway, what did I miss?"

Harry guessed that nerves still lingered somewhere at the back of Hermione's mind because she discreetly continued to play with her hair, which convinced him that she had made up the story of that duel just now. Harry groaned inwardly, thinking that they'd know tomorrow if it wasn't true.

When the rest of the committee members arrived to finish the decorating, Harry decided to hang around Ginny for two reasons. One, he wanted to watch her for clues to whether she suspected anything or not; and two, if Ron was at all suspicious, it was better if Harry wasn't near Hermione whenever Ron glimpsed her.

Two hours later everyone was watching Katie levitate the final piece of décor, a glittering ball designed to hold dozens of fairies, into the very center of the ceiling where a hook had been affixed.

In a further attempt to throw off any suspicion, Harry walked up to Parvati as she looked on and casually placed an arm around her shoulder. Even taking Harry by surprise, Parvati reacted as though, not only had she been expecting it, but that she welcomed it as well. With her attention still on the rising ball, she leaned into him ever so slightly. That should just about do it, he thought nervously.

"I hope tomorrow night won't be like that Yule Ball I went to," Parvati told Harry sarcastically, "My date didn't even want to dance with me." Harry swallowed hard. "I am saving a dance just for you," he assured her, now desperately regretting his attempt at misdirection.

"Just one dance," she said, stepping away from his hold to look him up and down. He shrugged. "We'll just see what you've got saved for me tomorrow night then, shall we," she said slyly, before she walked away.

Harry joined Ron and Hermione as they were getting ready to head back to Gryffindor Tower. "Where's Ginny," he asked, noticing her absence. Ron's face hardened slightly. "Michael Corner came to pick her up about ten minutes ago, but I think you were busy," Hermione answered, with just a hint of coolness in her voice. "I don't know about you two," Ron complained in a tone that suggested changing the subject, "but I've got loads of homework due next week, and it's refusing to do itself."

"So do I," Hermione agreed, "and I promised Neville I'd help him with that essay on gestalts. I gave him a couple of analogies; our whole committee working on that one proposal, horses pulling a single sleigh; those sort of things, but he just doesn't get it."


	4. The Gryffindor Ball

Chapter 4: The Gryffindor Ball

Friday morning's Breakfast was full of surprises. Once again Harry awoke before anyone else in his dormitory so that, by the time his roommates had begun stirring in their beds, he was ready to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Luna was already seated at the Ravenclaw table, buried in the latest copy of the Quibbler with her wand tucked away behind her ear. "Good morning Luna," Harry said cheerfully when he reached her. "Oh, Hullo," she said, looking up at the ceiling and sniffing the air. "Yes, it will be," she declared.

Then Luna caught sight of a few Slytherins entering the Great Hall and looked daggers at them. "Is it true," Harry asked, remembering Hermione's excuse last night. "Someone from Ravenclaw dueled with someone from Slytherin?"

Luna looked gravely at him and her answer surprised him. "Yes. It's rather sad really." Harry frowned. "How do you mean—did your mate loose?" Luna considered him for a moment. "Cho Chang banished Millicent Bulstrode's jaw bone. Millicent's still in the hospital wing so I'd say she's the one that lost."

"Cho," Harry said, amazed, "That doesn't sound like her." "No, it doesn't, but that's not all," Luna added. "She doesn't really talk to anyone, not even in Ravenclaw, so she's not very popular anymore. She still has a few old friends here and there, and a new one as well, but not like before. She's also having counseling sessions with Professor Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick regularly. I hear it's something like depression."

Harry flashed back to yesterday's visit to the headmaster's office and realized what Cho and Flitwick were doing there. But as he thought about it, he also realized that Cho didn't seem depressed at all, just preoccupied. Luna plowed on.

"Anyway, she's also been made a reserve seeker for last year's loss in the final, and she's landed herself in detention all next week. Sad, really," she repeated. "Reserve seeker," Harry said incredulously, "She's one of the best flyers I've ever seen."

Harry shook his head in disbelieving anger. Sure he had had some bad times with Cho before, but he never ever doubted that her kindness was genuine and felt that she didn't really deserve any of this misery.

Droves of students were casually entering the Great Hall now and Professors Flitwick and Vector had already taken their seats at the staff table. Even the schools caretaker, Mr. Filch, had arrived and was standing by the four great hour glasses that displayed the house-points, sipping on something hot from a mug.

"See you tonight, then," he said to Luna. "I suppose," she replied dreamily. When the rest of the committee joined him at the Gryffindor table, they said little more than morning greetings, however their faces spoke volumes, and Harry couldn't help but feel both excited and nervous.

"When will you're brothers get here," Hermione asked Ginny. "After lunch," Ginny answered. "What?" Harry asked, surprised. "They're going to deliver the music themselves?" Ginny smiled. "Actually, they're going to stay for the ball," she amended. "They're going to be like, disk jockeys; you know," Hermione added.

Harry grinned at Ron, who grinned back. "Just like old times," he said to Harry. "Not quite," Ginny corrected. "Dumbledore only said they could come if they behave. That means no Canary Creams or Ton Tongue Toffees or anything else like that."

Ron appeared to give it some thought, and then laughed. "Filch is going to be furious when he sees them back here. He won't be able to do anything to them 'cause they're not students anymore. HA!" Everyone laughed.

Harry however, vividly recalled the time when Cho Chang had glared down Filch in his defense last year and silent rage erupted inside him. He looked over at Filch, whose mug suddenly shattered, spilling hot liquid down his front.

Just then the morning post owls came swooping into the Great Hall and drew everyone's attention. A tawny landed in front of Harry to deliver its letter. It was from Hagrid, who was asking them to come by when next they had some time to spend with him.

Since most of their free time was going to be spent making last minute preparations for this evening's ball, and the fact that this weekend would be the only time they could scale the mountain of homework that was the result of it, they decided that a visit to Hagrid's hut would have to wait until next week; probably until next weekend.

Harry's first lesson seemed to drag on for hours. He unwisely counted the minutes until lunch and grew more and more famished as the morning progressed. By the end of class, Harry wasn't even sure he had actually eaten any of the breakfast he remembered having that morning.

After class was dismissed Harry made his way to the Great Hall at a brisk pace, practically ignoring Ron and Hermione's pleas to slow down and thought of nothing but the wonderful food that was about to appear on that blessed house table.

But any thought of sustenance gave way to euphoria at the sight of Fred and George ambling through the oak front doors when Harry reached the Entrance Hall. Oddly enough he no longer felt hungry and decided to accompany Fred and George, as well as Professor McGonagall, to the forth-floor classroom.

Harry and the rest of the committee finished their dinner that evening with a certain amount of indifference, their focus on tonight's event which they alone had been responsible. Harry's nerves seemed to infect the rest of his friends; sapping their enthusiasm and making him feel even worse for having suggested the whole thing.

Harry knew something had to be done; this was his idea after all. He still felt like the lead on this event, and if he didn't do something, who would? Arriving at the conclusion that their attitudes alone would probably determine tonight's success, or failure, Harry beamed at them, taking them by surprise.

"It's time to go," he said optimistically, "We've got to be there before anyone else." "If anyone else is coming," Ron said moodily. "Who cares how many people turn out," Harry said calmly, looking around at his friends. "We'll still have fun."

Hermione took hold of Ron's hand and gave him a little smile. "I can sure go for a bottle of Butterbeer—anyone know where I can get one," Ron said, an expression of pending pleasure spreading on his freckled face. A few of their friends smirked.

"Does that camera of yours have a timer," Harry asked the Creevey brothers. "Yes," they chorused. "That's it, then. We're all going to take a group picture together... just the committee. Tonight's gonna be loads of fun, and I want something to remember it by." That did it. Elation and excitement filled their faces and they purposely rose from their seats.

It wasn't unusual to see a few students leaving dinner before desert appeared, but many heads turned in their direction as they quietly made their way to the doors. Harry exited first and waited outside for everyone to pass, sharing a grin with each as they did. Parvati returned Harry's smile with a mischievous one and his nerves surrounding her plans for tonight resurfaced.

Without warning he heard the Headmaster clear his throat and knew he would be plugging Gryffindor's ball. Harry froze as Professor Dumbledore reminded the rest of the school of tonight's event. He wanted to run, to not hear the silence at the end of Dumbledore's address that would break his spirits utterly, but his legs refused.

He stood rooted to the spot as Dumbledore finished speaking. And just as Harry managed to turn himself around and stagger towards the marble staircase, he heard a fair amount of applause. That has to be half the school, he realized. It sounded like they were planning to come—and finally, he knew it would be alright.

Harry rushed up to Gryffindor tower and quickly changed into corduroys, a tee-shirt, and sweater-vest. Ron and Hermione were waiting for him by the fireplace; the others had already gone down. When he joined them a sudden surge of affection came over him.

This was the way it was suppose to be, a Friday night party and his two best friends, and at that very moment, to Harry at least, there was no prophecy, no new prediction. There was only tonight. Tonight and, of course, photos.

No sooner had the trio entered the ballroom were they chivvied in front of a huge Hogwarts' banner the Creevey brothers had unearthed from somewhere. Colin and Dennis had several shots in mind; three or four poses of just the girls, two more of just the boys, and five of the whole committee—including two with the twins.

All the girls, Harry noticed, submitted to the photo session with great gusto. Parvati and Lavender took another three by themselves, as did Hermione and Ginny. Katie took one with the twins, and Ginny insisted on taking one with her three older brothers.

"We're next, you know," Hermione said to Harry, as he watched his surrogate family with a grin. He had just registered that peculiar fragrance she always seemed to ware now when her words finally hit him, and a rush of half dread, half excitement came over him.

The prom picture of Ms. Figg's niece had come to mind, except it was him and Hermione in the picture instead. "Me, you and Ron," she continued. "Oh... right," said Harry, catching her meaning with a slight pang. She gave him a searching look and then turned away grinning.

Voices could now be heard outside the double doors. The muffled babble slowly grew louder, hinting to the increasing size of the waiting crowd. One of the doors opened slightly and Professor McGonagall slid in, almost sideways. Colin closed the door behind her, exiting with his camera.

Their head-of-house wore a stern look that was punctuated with a small smile. "It's almost time," Professor McGonagall announced. "Are we ready?" Everyone looked at Harry who took one last look at the ballroom, empty but for their decorations and the small groups of tables and chairs they had arranged around the room. Harry nodded.

Professor McGonagall pointed her wand at a large table some distance away from the smaller table that would be serving as their bar, and sixteen hors d'oeuvre platters appeared, along with stacks of smaller plates.

Harry had just remembered the platter of never-ending sandwiches she had once conjured in Snape's office when there was a small pop overhead and they automatically turned to the huge canvas they had hung above Fred and George's music booth. A photo of the crowd, which Colin had just taken, appeared on it.

"There's a lot of them, aren't there," Dennis said. I'll let our guests in now, shall I," Professor McGonagall said, and then she turned to the doors. Dennis took his place at the photo area while Harry and Ron took theirs at the bar. Katie, Dean, Ginny, Hermione, Parvati and Lavender stood with their head-of-house. With a simple gesture Professor McGonagall opened the doors.

She and the others welcomed the students as they entered, pointing out the photo area, the Butterbeer bar, and the hors d'oeuvres table. Lines quickly formed at each station and the small groups of tables slowly filled.

The guest seemed pleased with the trouble Harry and his friends had gone through for them. They admired the view and immensely enjoyed the photo-showing canvas as Colin clicked away cameos of random tables.

DA members greeted Harry and Ron at the bar, barely containing their enthusiasm. He and Ron took their time handing out Butterbeer bottles to Ernie Macmillan, Hanna Abbott, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Susan Bones, and Anthony Goldstein; catching up on each's summer holiday and receiving compliments for their efforts.

About a half-hour later, the entire room went dim. The photo's materializing onto the canvas above appeared brighter and clearer than when torchlight had filled the room. A spun-glass orb flew up to the ceiling from Fred and George's music booth and seemingly vanished just before it collided with it.

Loud, upbeat music filled the air and miniature fireworks erupted above. Flickers of multi-colored lights floated earthward, vanishing about six feet before they landed. Almost immediately couples proceeded to the dance floor while hopeful guests approached eager-looking ones.

Harry felt suddenly relieved at the fact that he was safely behind the Butterbeer bar, and happily continued to hand out bottles to those in line. Harry wondered vaguely if they had enough Butterbeer for the night and looked over at the doors, attempting to gage the crowd, just in time to see Cho Chang, Marietta Edgecombe, and a few other Ravenclaws coming in.

Cho looked at Hermione, who just happened to be by the doors at that time, and something seemed to pass between them. Harry thought about the enmity Cho harbored towards Hermione and felt a little disappointed. Cho and Hermione could be quite good friends if they ever got to know each other, Harry thought.

As the line worked out, much to Harry's disappointment, Cho received her Butterbeer from Ron, while Harry was busy serving Gabrielle. Cho however, gave Harry a quick smile, and without really knowing why, Harry exulted inside.

Around eight o'clock the Butterbeer line turned intermittent and Ron and Harry scanned the room for Hermione, spotting her at the music booth. George was nodding as she spoke into his ear and, after a quick glance at him and Ron, took a look around.

Then she made her way through the dancing couples and stopped in front of two tables, at which sat Parvati and Padma Patil, Lavender Brown, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnigan.

Harry's heart started pounding. It was time for Parvati and Lavender to take over the bar. He struggled to find a suitable excuse to remain at his post, but then saw Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore and knew they would ally with Hermione if he refused.

"That's not fair," he muttered. "What was that?" someone in line asked him. "Oh, nothing Mark," Harry said to the first-year, handing him a Butterbeer bottle, "Sorry about that, mate."

As soon as the current song ended, a new one began and, although he had never heard this tune before, it sounded very familiar to him and he unthinkingly began nodding his head to the beat. He felt a hand close on his and was suddenly being dragged away from the table.

"Ron told me you learned how to swing dance," Hermione said to him. "Oh, did he," Harry said, glaring at an embarrassed-looking Ron, who averted his eyes, looking both guilty and amused. It alarmed Harry to discover just how strong Hermione actually was. Both her grip and her stride seem to pull him effortlessly to the dance floor.

He decided not to resist, catching curious looks from some of the dancing couples they passed. Ernie and Hanna didn't even break their rhythm when they smiled at him and Hermione, each waving hello to them as they went by.

When they reached the center of the dance floor, Hermione faced him and took hold of his other hand. Harry played for time. "Let me think a moment," he shouted, barely audible over the music. "What's to think about?" Hermione shouted back. "It'll be fine!"

She pulled him right up to her and counted to the beat. "One, two, three, and—" Hermione pushed him away as she took a step back and all of a sudden, they were doing the basic step for a measure or two. It all came back to him; everything he learned dancing with Ms. Figg and Tonks.

Almost automatically Harry turned Hermione, and couples dancing next to them, who had already been watching, stopped and goggled. Hermione beamed at Harry. "What else?" she said excitedly, the pair of them returning to the basic step. He remembered some more turns, a couple of spins, a few little things with the hands and arms, and tried them all on Hermione.

She followed his lead perfectly and he suddenly realized how much fun he was having. Dancing with Hermione was so easy that it felt like he had done this with her many times before. Some couples made their way next to them to join in, while others concentrated, watching them for a while before trying the basic step themselves.

Justin Finch-Fletchley and Susan Bones turned up next to them, also doing the basic step. They did it proficiently but did not do much else. Just as it dawned on Harry that Justin and Susan must have just learned the basic step and couldn't yet do anything else, Hermione took Susan away from Justin and gave her to Harry, taking Susan's place with Justin.

They started dancing again, Harry leading Susan, while Hermione taught Justin how to lead. At one point Harry looked around to find everyone immediately around him and Susan swing dancing, or else, learning from others.

It was another song before he and Susan stopped dancing. Giddily, she thanked him and then headed for the bar. Harry found Ron and Ginny by the hors d'oeuvres table and joined them. Ron had a bottle of Butterbeer in each hand and offered one to Harry.

"Thanks, mate," Harry said thankfully. Ron said nothing but instead, tapped his bottleneck to Harry's, and they both took a drink. Harry caught a look from Ginny that stunned him. Unless he was mistaken, it was a look of deepest resentment, as if he had insulted her in some way. With a prolonged glare Ginny stalked off.

Harry was beside himself. It was so shocking that he thought he imagined it. Just then another glass ball shoot up from the booth. "You know what those remind me of," Ron asked, indicating the sphere with a nod. Harry looked at him. "All those prophecies back at the ministry."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "You know what? During our History of Magic OWL, I just kept staring at Parvati—" there was a gasp from somewhere behind them, but Harry did not register it immediately. "She was right in front of me and—" he broke off, noticing Padma hurrying past them. "And..." Ron urged him on.

"And the sunlight kept shining off her hair. They looked just like the prophecies in my dreams, mind you, I didn't know what they were at the time. When I dreamed about them, they were just little lights. "I'm glad we made it out of there," Ron said tentatively, and Harry knew that he was worried about touching a nerve. Instead, Harry chuckled, "So am I." They toasted again and took another swig.

Around eight twenty, Harry and Ron took seats by Ginny, Michael, Terry Boote and Katie. Ron had selected their table, Harry suspected, to keep an eye on Ginny and Michael, which was fine with Harry because he was able to see Cho who, along with Marietta, had taken a table by one of the great windows.

Harry kept looking away from them, trying hard to conceal his numerous glances, when another pair of former DA members caught his eye. Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood were seated not far from them, having drinks and looking quite happy. Harry smiled to himself and was about to point them out to Ron when, unexpectedly, Parvati and her twin sister turned up.

"May we sit here," Padma asked Ron. "Sure," he answered, taken aback. They sat for a minute or two, quietly watching the glittering lights fall softly towards the lively dance floor like colorful, luminescent snowflakes, before another glass ball shot up to replace its already fading predecessor with a slower, more romantic song.

"I want my dance now," Parvati said, suddenly snapping out of her daze. "Now?" Harry asked, slightly panicked. Padma placed an elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand, grinning at Ron, whose ears turned red.

"I think you owe me one too. You never danced with me at the Yule Ball. Remember? You can make up for it now." Ron laughed weakly, looking uneasy. This forced Harry to remember the slightly guilty feeling he had had after realizing the neglect he put Parvati through at that same Yule ball.

Harry stood up, deciding that this could atone for his behavior of two years prior, as well as fulfill his promise to dance with Parvati. He caught Ginny watching her brother with obvious interest. "Coming Ron?" Harry asked, grinning.

Parvati seemed to keep her body pressed to his the whole time, which felt oddly nice. She kept talking into his ear as softly as she could over the loud, slow music, and Harry struggled to shrug off his nerves. "Relax," she told him repeatedly.

On the other hand, Ron seemed to be faring better. He was a head taller than Padma and had to keep his eyes on hers as she spoke to him so as not to be rude and, although he often flushed at her words, he seemed to laugh a fair amount as well. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying himself enough that, briefly, Harry wondered if he might be able to dance with Padma at the next song.

When the song ended the couples broke apart to applaud. An upbeat tune began to play and Harry looked at Parvati, a feeling of dread welling up inside him. "I know," she said in a defeated tone, "You don't like this one, right." Numbly surprised, he began to shrug, but just then Parvati leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Thanks for the dance," she said, and she and her sister walked off.

Harry looked at Ron. "That wasn't so bad, was it," Ron said with a slight grin. "I guess not," Harry answered airily, recalling the way Ron had obviously enjoyed himself with Padma, and feeling as though he just missed out on some sort of treat. Harry spotted Marietta dancing with Dean Thomas as he and Ron headed back, and immediately looked over at Cho's table.

She was sitting by herself and gazing out of the window, looking pleasantly content somehow, almost entranced. Harry had a strong urge to talk to her, and was just thinking of what to say to her when someone else caught his eye. Deciding that Cho could wait, Harry walked up behind Gabrielle and cleared his throat. She turned to him and her face seemed to brighten.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Harry asked hopefully. Gabrielle beamed at him but Harry saw a shadow of disappointment behind her smile. "You haven't danced with anybody yet," he guessed out loud. "Nobodee seems to want to dance wit mee," she shrugged, smiling still, as though this conversation with him made up for that fact.

"That's where you're wrong," Harry corrected her, "I want to dance with you." She blinked, flushing slightly, and then glanced over her shoulder. Harry extended an arm. "Shall we?" he asked, and Gabrielle happily accepted.

As they danced Harry couldn't help but notice how diminutive she was, which only bolstered his feelings of being something like her older brother, and he immediately felt very protective of her. He thought about his first year, realizing just how hard first-years actually had it. If he didn't have Ron and Hermione, his would have been a disaster. The fact that Gabrielle spoke English as a second language made this first year all the more difficult.

And then something occurred to him. "There's someone I want you to meet," he told her casually. She gave him a puzzled look and he grinned at her. Almost excitedly she followed him off the dance floor. They had just started making their way around the ballroom when, a lot sooner than he expected, Harry found who he was looking for.

Harry escorted Gabrielle to a couple of first-year Gryffindors who were huddled together in conversation. "Mark," he said, and the boy closest to them turned around, his eyes immediately locking onto Gabrielle; clearly stunned at how pretty she was. Harry was forcibly reminded of the way he used to react to Cho.

"This is my very dear friend, Gabrielle," Harry announced, turning to look at her. She looked at Harry and beamed; Mark seemed to go weak in the knees. "This gentleman," Harry indicated the petrified boy to Gabrielle, "is Mark Evans, also a friend of mine."

He allowed a moment in which Gabrielle smiled softly at Mark, and Mark stared disbelievingly at Gabrielle.

"Mark," Harry continued, and the stunned boy quickly, even determinedly, looked at him, "please see to it that my Gabrielle," Harry exchanged grins with her, "enjoys herself." Gabrielle looked back at Mark, again smiling softly, but with a little nod that seemed to ease his nerves.

Slowly, he offered an arm to her, shooting worried looks to Harry, as though hoping for an indication of some sort that he was doing it properly. Gabrielle regally took Mark's arm and Harry realized just how perfectly matched they looked; they were both a little on the small side.

Harry spent the next fifteen minutes feeling smug about his little match making and reminisced about it twice more, before he heard a familiar voice call his name. It was Cho Chang. "I need to find Gabrielle," she said. "It's almost nine o'clock and I have to get her back to our dormitory."

Harry blinked. "Gabrielle?" he said, mildly surprised. "Yes," Cho answered, a small grin appearing on her pretty face, "The little girl you danced with last. She really wanted to come tonight, so I accompanied her... she's sort of my responsibility, you see. I have to get her back before curfew." "She's with Mark," he thought out loud, taking a look around. Cho's grin vanished and her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.

When they eventually found Gabrielle taking a souvenir photo with Mark, Cho gave Harry a quizzical look that suggested some displeasure. Gabrielle however, beamed at the pair of them and ran up to Cho, half skipping, immediately taking hold of her hand.

"I 'ave a new friend," she said proudly, looking over and pointing out Mark, who was busy receiving a ticket from Dennis. "That's wonderful," Cho replied, flashing Harry a humorously cold look before returning an apologetic one to Gabrielle. "But it's almost nine o'clock now," Cho said, and without so much as a pause to draw breath, continued her reasoning in French, sounding quite fluent in Harry's opinion.

"Yes, ma'am," Gabrielle said happily when Cho had finished. "Zank you 'Arry, pleese zell Mark zat I enjoyed myself, and I 'ope I see 'im again." Cho gave Harry another look, one of mock anguish. Laughing slightly she shook her head and then raised a hand in farewell. Harry watched them leave feeling slightly disappointed that the idea he had had, the one to walk Gabrielle back to the Ravenclaw dorms, with Mark of course, would no longer be possible.

Around nine thirty, as Ron and Harry stood gazing out at the lake below, Parvati approached them. "Ron, will you walk Padma back to her dorm, please?" There was a formal politeness to her request that made it seem more like a command.

"Ah... sure," he said, looking, not at Padma, who was several feet behind Parvati, in conversation with Anthony Goldstein, but at Hermione, Ginny, and Michael. When Harry followed Ron's gaze, it led to Hermione, who was staring directly at him.

Her sad stare was a little unnerving. Why's she looking at me like that, he thought to himself. But before Harry could think to look away from her, Ron's voice interrupted. "Oy, Harry," and he quickly looked at Ron.

"Wanna come with?" he asked, and relieved, Harry immediately agreed. "Ah, okay." Parvati looked delighted. "We'll meet you at the doors then, shall we," she said to them, and they were off.

Harry had an uneasy feeling about this little trip, as if he were heading into some sort of trap. When he wasn't distracted by one or both of the twins, each of whom seemed extra friendly tonight, he secretly wanted to run, to flee from these would-be captors.

More than once he had a vision of Ron and himself being led away in shackles by Parvati and Padma. He'd shake his head, thinking he had had too much Butterbeer before realizing that Butterbeer didn't make that kind of a difference.

He felt silly. There was no harm in walking Padma back to her dormitory; in fact, it was a very nice thing to do. After a few minutes Harry's nerves seem to lighten, and he was able to relax when Parvati told him to for what seemed like the hundredth time tonight.

"It's around this corner and down the hall," Padma told them when they had reached a large hallway whose walls seemed extra dark and shadow-filled when compared to its well-lighted neighbors. Parvati turned to Ron who now looked a little tense. "Why don't you walk her," she said with an encouraging little smile, "Harry and I can wait here."

Part of Harry thought it was a good idea, while another part of him silently screamed for Ron not to leave him. But Ron merely shrugged, rather helplessly, and gestured to Padma to lead the way. As soon as Ron and her sister turned the corner, Parvati quietly spoke.

"Have you ever kissed a girl before?" For some reason this question didn't really surprise him. The way Parvati had been acting towards him these last couple of nights seemed to be leading up to it. "No," Harry answered, deciding there was a difference between kissing a girl, and being kissed by one.

She looked at him, astonished, and he quickly worried that Cho might have mentioned their kiss to others; Padma perhaps. Parvati gave him a sideways look. "Can you keep a secret?" she asked seriously. Harry's curiosity got the better of him and he answered without thinking. "Of course!" "Good," she said, suddenly looking pleased, "Me too."

Without warning she launched herself at him, locking her lips onto his. Her hands firmly grasped his vest, and she pushed him back towards a dark shadow. Fearing a collision with the wall he knew was drawing nearer, he blindly reached out with his right hand, causing his left arm to reach forward, which somehow ended up at the small of Parvati's back.

Her immediate reaction was to press her body even closer to his. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, and her grip tightened. Harry's hands found her shoulders, intending to push her off, but he paused, noticing for the first time, how soft her lips were. Harry's back hit the wall, and Parvati backed off. "Not bad... but, close your eyes, relax a little and... ah, use your tongue, just a bit more."

He couldn't really see her face in this darkness and wasn't quite sure he wanted to when she brought it to his once more. He closed his eyes, which didn't really have an affect since they were in a very dark shadow already.

Her kiss was softer this time, but in contrast, her hands seemed to be a bit more rough now. They moved up and down his torso eagerly, and at times, pleaded his hands to do the same. She stopped and drew breath slowly.

"A little softer," she moaned, making his legs go weak, which went unnoticed because he was using the wall for support now. She kissed him again, even softer than last time. After a moment, she released him. "Good," she whispered.

She wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing herself much too close to him, and then slipped an arm about his neck while the other caressed his chest. He looked up, fearful that someone, perhaps Ron, would see them like this. Parvati nipped at his neck playfully and, surprised, Harry looked down at her and, for the forth time tonight, her lips found his.

This time he decided to just ease into it and, after a moment, got the hang of her movements, suddenly finding that, much like dancing swing, he preferred to do the leading. After a few minutes Parvati backed off, her eyes opening slowly and a faint smile playing on her lips.

They heard muffled footsteps growing closer and for a moment Harry thought that they would just stay hidden. But Parvati grabbed one of Harry's hands and led him out of the shadows. She looked him over quickly, straightened the front of his vest, then stretched a sleeve of her sweater over one hand and brushed it once over his lips, a little harder than necessary, right before Ron turned the corner.

He was looking a little wary until he caught sight of Harry and Parvati. "I got lost," he said, shrugging, and Parvati smiled. None of them said much on their way back to the forth-floor.

"I'm off to bed, I think," Parvati declared. "We're supposed to stay till the end," Ron said, "cleanup, you know." Parvati looked at Harry innocently. "I know, but for some reason, I'm feeling really; I don't know, talkative, and I think I have to sleep it off."

She walked up to Harry and his heart started thumping. "You don't mind. Do you Harry?" she asked sweetly. "It's alright, er, you go ahead," he said quickly. She smiled thankfully at him. "Thank you Harry. I really appreciate it," she said. "Good night Ron... Harry."

"Don't ask," Harry said to Ron, when Parvati had disappeared up the stairs, "just... don't ask." Ron however, didn't much seem interested in what had just happened. He was busy looking in the direction of the ball, although his eyes appeared a bit glazed over. "What d'you say," Ron asked absentmindedly.


	5. The Day After

Chapter 5: The Day After

Harry awoke the following morning to the whispered conversation of his sixth-year roommates, still in their beds and discussing the Gryffindor ball in what can only be described as hushed elation.

"I was surprised at all the people that turned up," said Neville after Dean and Seamus had each finished naming the four or five people they had danced with. "I know. That was a fair turnout for just three days notice. Lavender had fun—I take it, right Seamus?"

There was a loud snort followed by a roar of laughter and many shushing noises. "Parvati must've been tired though," said Dean, and immediately Harry was wide awake. "She went back up to the girls' dorm early." More giggling, followed by more shushing. Harry didn't know whether to be concerned about that or not.

"What are you lot on about," Harry heard Ron say in an annoyed whisper. "Oh... nothing," Dean answered sarcastically. "By the way, how was the reunion with Padma? I noticed you left for a while. Care to give us the details?" "No. We just walked her home."

Harry thought Ron's tone suggested that there was a vivid flush upon his face just now, and whether or not the other boys had picked up on it as well, there was renewed laughter. "Whose home would that be?" Dean asked suggestively. "I meant dorm, okay." "I take it she's not mad at you about the Yule Ball anymore, then?"

Harry continued to feign sleep even as the questions became more and more inappropriate, until the murmur of many little conversations from the common room below beckoned for them to join.

"Harry," Ron whispered uncertainly as the other boys left the room and headed downstairs. "I'm awake," he answered, relieved that only Ron was left. "Oh," said Ron, a bit surprised, "well, we'll be in the common room. Sounds like everyone's down there talking 'bout last night." "Okay, I'll catch you up in a minute."

Harry remained in bed even after the door had shut. After the momentary rush of dread at the conversation the others had been having, Harry could now extend his lie-in; it was Saturday after all. He let loose a great yawn, stretching intensely, and slowly began to recall the events of the previous evening.

He could remember all the excited faces, the dance floor full of students, the music, and all of the lights. Harry also remembered having a great deal of fun dancing with Hermione, as well as teaching others how to swing. And then there was Neville and Luna, sitting together, looking quite pleased.

Harry couldn't help but smile at this thought. But then Harry's stroll down memory lane took an unpleasant turn. He saw Ginny looking daggers at him, making him feel aghast. He found himself in a dark, shadowy hallway with Parvati pressing in on him from seemingly all sides, almost suffocating him.

Then, quite suddenly, he thought of the time when Cho had kissed him under the mistletoe last December and immediately realized that he preferred her softer, more tender advance to that of Parvati's aggressive, almost forceful one. Parvati's hands, he thought, almost terrified him; the way they moved unabated across his body, as if their reach far exceeded their actual length. His mind however, returned to Cho.

Last night she looked as pretty as ever despite her very casual attire, as well as the unpleasant looks she threw him because of Gabrielle. "I didn't know she could speak French," Harry said to himself, remembering the seamless way Cho had changed, mid-sentence, from English to French when she had spoken to the little part-veela.

But then the memory of Gabrielle gracefully accepting Mark's timorously outstretched arm entered his mind and he suddenly imagined how they must have looked dancing together, which brought yet another smile to his face.

Then Harry thought about the picture they had just taken when he and Cho had caught up with them and immediately wanted to see it; to see the two people he had so spontaneously, yet so perfectly, matched together when, once again, the memory of Cho's reproving expression interrupted him.

Harry shook his head clear, suddenly aware of the fact that he hadn't thought of Cho this much since before he saw her at the Puddlemere United match; of course, he had been concentrating on her flaws before then.

Harry knew he wasn't infatuated with her anymore, but he was every bit as sure that she was one of those people you're lucky to know. She was a mess last year, he admitted, but not all the other years; like when they played against each other in his third. Cho even wished him good luck right before his match with Slytherin for the quidditch cup.

And in his forth year, he remembered how much better he felt at the simple sight of Cho without a "Support Cedric Diggory" badge when almost everyone else felt that way; even Ron. Harry frowned at the thought, but it was quickly replaced by something that made him smile instead; "Hermione's never doubted me."

Harry jumped out of bed and changed out of his pajamas, thinking that, if he were already dressed, he could make a quick getaway to the Great Hall if it became necessary. Harry had a paranoid suspicion that he would become the subject of more than one of those common room conversations once he got down there.

If the others had noticed Ron's absence, they would have noticed his as well; and especially Parvati's. But they might just think Parvati went up to Gryffindor tower straight away when we all left, he thought to himself, and his paranoia relaxed a bit. "Please let them think that," he said out loud.

Turning this hopeful thought into an outspoken wish reassured him somehow and he continued anxiously, taking the spiral steps one at a time. Parvati wouldn't go and tell anyone that we kissed, I mean, I don't think I did a very good job of it; and she wouldn't want people to get the wrong idea of her.

He agreed with his own reasoning and calmly quickened his pace. Just then another thought entered his mind; a most absurd idea that Harry initially laughed away even before it had fully formed, but not before it had brought back the memory of the small smile Parvati had given him at the end of their time alone together in the shadows.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks; the absurd thought had taken over. What if she liked it? What if he, Harry, had done a good job of it? Parvati might tell everyone—maybe start a rumor. A chill ran down his spine.

She could start a rumor if I was horrible too; she would if I was that bad. Harry looked out of the window he had inadvertently stopped besides, and was half-hoping that he could just squeeze through and jump to his death when his eyes caught a part of the school's lake he and Hermione had taken a walk around once before; he had been extremely upset on that occasion as well.

Harry paced back and forth on the step he had stopped on, thinking out loud. "What would Hermione say? What would Hermione say? What would Hermione say?" "What would I say about what," came Hermione's voice

Harry's heart gave a particularly loud thump the instant his eyes met Hermione's; the expression on her face was that of delight, almost triumphant. He would have felt as though he'd just been caught in the act of doing something wrong had he not felt his heart stop at what he saw next.

His eyes had been drawn to Hermione's only slightly covered bosom, and then traveled down her figure before he thought to look away. Harry hoped she hadn't seen him stare down her maturing body, slightly evident beneath her clothes, and felt immediately disgusted with himself for being distracted by her blossoming figure when he had much more pressing matters to think about; like suicide.

"Well if it isn't the toast of the tower," she said loftily. Panic filled Harry's mind, speeding it into action. Parvati might have told Lavender what happened between them, in fact, he was sure of it, and since Hermione was in the same dorm, she could have overheard everything; which meant he couldn't deny it... not to Hermione. That must be why she was here. She wants to confront me with what everyone in the common room, everyone in the whole school, must be talking about by now.

"Good job Harry," she said proudly, and Harry couldn't believe his ears. He looked at her, a bit surprised, a bit confused, but totally frightened. "What," he said timidly. "Good job. Everyone's talking about it." "Everyone knows?" Hermione's expression changed from delight to bewilderment.

"Are we talking about the same thing," she asked. Something in his brain clunked into place. Hermione didn't know; she was talking about last night's party, not his kiss with Parvati. "Oh... you were talking about the ball," he said, laughing uncomfortably.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I was. What were _you_ talking about?" His mind, which hadn't stopped working even as he answered Hermione's first question, now locked onto an idea.

"Mark Evans," he replied confidently. He fought hard to keep his expression blank, feeling as though he had just narrowly escaped something dreadful, like when Ron and Ginny almost caught the pair of them in a hug.

"Didn't you here? I set him up with Gabrielle. You know, Fleur's little sister, in Ravenclaw." Harry smiled at her thinking it could only add to his persuasiveness, but he was mistaken. Instead she regarded his grin with obvious suspicion.

"I wouldn't have figured you for a match maker," she said evenly. Harry shrugged, still trying to smile innocently. "Well, the idea came to me all of a sudden and I just went along with it, that's all." Harry paused, realizing that they were having this conversation in the boys' staircase, which felt a little suspicious.

"Anyway, were you coming to fetch me or something," Harry asked, hoping he could catch her off balance. Hermione however, was a bit quicker on the uptake. "What was it you were wondering I'd say," she asked him casually. "Oh that, I was just wondering," Harry began, but then he paused, lost for words.

He felt suddenly outmatched by Hermione's cleverness and, try as he might to think of an explanation, he could not invent one that she wouldn't have easily picked apart. But just as the feeling of imminent defeat threatened to force out a confession, Hermione made a guess. "Is it a girl?" she asked evenly.

"Well," Harry paused, thinking hard, "...kind of." He looked away, playing for time. True, Harry missed the late-night talks he had enjoyed with Tonks back in August and, although the answers she gave seemed to only confuse him more, he wanted that feeling of openness with someone again.

And when on the subject of the female-half of the species, Harry knew he felt very comfortable talking to Hermione. "Harry," she began, her voice tentative, "you said that Ron and I were the closest people to you, remember?" Harry heard the pang in her voice and knew her feelings would be hurt if she thought he wasn't being open and forthcoming with her.

"You are, only I wouldn't know exactly what to tell you," he reassured her truthfully; he honestly didn't know what to tell her. "Let me help you figure it out then," she pleaded, walking up to him. Harry considered this, noticing her peculiar fragrance once again.

"Okay... but not here, not now." "Then when," she half-demanded, and Harry could sense her impatience. "Today, I promise." "Don't you have a quidditch meeting today," she reminded him. "Oh... right," he remembered, but then quickly made up his mind, "I'll just skip it."

Hermione suddenly looked a little anxious, "But doesn't the team have to pick a new captain?" "Sure, but we have to replace the chasers first, Angelina and Alicia have left," Harry paused, "we _should_ hold tryouts for beaters as well."

They laughed at this, and as they did, a familiar feeling came flooding back into Harry's head and he suddenly remembered that urge he had had the last time Hermione questioned his openness with her; the urge to hold her.

"Anyway," he began, grinning slightly and feeling a bit furtive, "with Ron and Ginny busy, we'll be alone... to talk." Hermione's eyes widened slightly and she cleared her throat. "Alright then," she said after a moment, "I'll wait for you at the lake when it's time for the quidditch meeting." Harry nodded and Hermione started off.

"I've been meaning to ask you," he called after her, and she turned back to him. "What's that perfume you're always wearing now?" Harry saw an uneasiness settle in her brown eyes. "Oh, ah... I got it last Christmas," she began, but Harry suddenly remembered last year's Christmas at Grimmauld Place.

"Oh, right... Ron's present." During the awkward silence that followed, Harry felt his urge to hold her drain away, replaced by a feeling something like betrayal. "Ron might misunderstand, you know," said a dry voice somewhere in his head.

Harry looked at Hermione for a moment, suddenly regretting his best friends. "You'd better get down there," he said finally, "We really shouldn't... together." Hermione looked tense, even a bit worried.

"Oh. Well, see you later, then," she said, and there was something curiously pleading in her voice, as though she weren't entirely sure he would actually meet her. Harry smiled dolefully at Hermione, who hesitated and then walked off, casting one last look of concerned before she disappeared around the bend.

A moment later, Harry's worst fears were confirmed the second he entered the common room. The friendly greetings and compliments took such an instant turn for the worse that Harry didn't even stop to talk, heading directly for the portrait hole as the suggestions regarding his half-hour absence were comically blurted out; rather like Fred and George making public accusations.

When he had walked halfway down the marble staircase, he met the Creevey brothers returning from an early breakfast and looking quite excited. "We've just come from the Great Hall and everyone's asking when their pictures will be ready."

"How long will that take anyway?" Harry asked, suddenly thinking about all the pictures he wanted to see, especially the one of Gabrielle and Mark. "Not sure really, but we told everyone to wait till Monday."

"Well," Harry said suggestively, "I hope the ones of the committee will be ready first... that would be a nice treat." The Creevey brothers exchanged a quick look and then beamed at Harry. "We can manage those sometime... tonight, I think," Colin said happily, and Dennis nodded. "Brilliant, only let's keep this a secret from the others. We'll surprise them," he said.

When Harry reached the entrance hall some ten minutes later, he found that he wasn't really hungry yet. The dazzling morning sun he had seen through the castle windows on his way down had tempted him to wander outdoors instead.

Perhaps because his mind had preoccupied itself with what was sure to be the negative reactions from his fellow teammates for having missed the first quidditch meeting of the season, he soon found himself at the pitch.

Harry briefly wished he had thought of this sooner and that he had brought his Firebolt along with him, but then, just as he decided to simply summon if from his dormitory room, he discovered he had forgotten his wand as well.

"Bloody Hell," he muttered to himself. Then Harry looked up at the sky, which was a clear, deep blue and decided that a school broom would have to serve his sudden impulse. He apathetically selected one from the locker room, half-irate with himself for his lack of foresight. But as soon as he had kicked off the ground and pulled into a steady climb just a few minutes later, his anger abated and the familiar rush of flying took over him.

Having been thoroughly spoiled by his own Firebolt, Harry immediately noticed the school broom's diminished capabilities and, at once, felt an added excitement at the thought that the danger of him crashing on this broom would be higher than he was use to.

Harry grinned to himself and pulled back on his broom handle so that he fell backwards, straight into a power dive. As always his timing was impeccable and, about three seconds sooner than he would've had he only had his broom, pulled out of the dive and allowed his momentum to carry him up the field.

Harry barely reacted in time as he pulled his broom into another stiff climb in order to avoid a broomstick, which had zoomed dangerously across his path, almost colliding with him. He caught sight of Cho's broad grin as she sped off towards the other end of the pitch and, feeling another rush, immediately tore after her.

She seemed as graceful as ever on her _Comet_, which was saying something as it was an old broom and, after a minute or so in which Harry tried in vain to catch her, Cho slowed to a stop in midair so that he could pull up next to her.

"Bored of your Firebolt already, or did you just miss flying on one of our fancy school brooms?" They were both still a bit excited from the chase and took a moment to catch their breath. "Neither," Harry answered. "I hadn't counted on coming here, so I left my broom back in my dorm. But..." he gestured at the open air. Cho smiled and nodded, looking up to the sky.

"What are you doing here so early?" he asked her. "Me? I'm always here this early. I lost my starting job," she said, smiling rather indifferently, "and I want it back." Harry nodded. "I heard about that, sorry. But I don't think there's anyone as good as you in all of Ravenclaw. You're bound to get it back."

A small smile touched her lips and she began to blush. "Well, let's put that to the test then, shall we," she suddenly said, flashing Harry a mischievous grin, "Ten, nine, eight—" "What are you doing?" Harry asked, but she ignored him. "Seven, six, five—"

Harry wheeled his broomstick around and took off. A moment later he turned and immediately spotted the small figure of Cho closing in. Harry had to go to his specialty move several times in order to escape her; Cho could not dive as well as he could, and he used this advantage to give himself some breathing room each time she drew too near. Cho however, would not be denied.

Harry looked back and dove away from Cho's grasp yet again. But the instant he had finished pulling out of this last dive did he feel a huge weight make contact with his back and, at the same time, felt two slender arms take hold of him.

Apparently Cho had not followed him into the dive but, instead, guessed his exit direction and intercepted him. Harry's broom was jerked into a braking motion and the pair of them flew forward, right off their brooms, rolling spectacularly to a stop on the soft grass.

Harry immediately panicked at the sight of Cho's limp form, whose legs had ended up tangled with his. "Cho, are you alright?" he asked desperately. Harry looked up and scanned the empty pitch for anyone who could help.

Then he heard hysterical laughter and immediately felt aghast that someone could find this so funny, but could not, for the life of him, see anyone else around. Then, quite suddenly, his panic faded as he realized that the laughter was coming from the person beside him. "Cho?" he asked, flabbergasted.

To Harry's surprise Cho sat up and continued to laugh. "That was great. You should've heard yourself!" she sniggered, clapping loudly. Cho's laughter instantly infected him and, realizing that she was perfectly fine, felt a bit foolish for his overreaction.

Harry looked away, fearing he would actually blush out of embarrassment. "Don't be mad," Cho said playfully. "Mad," Harry said, "I'm not mad." Cho smiled at him and looked as though she were on the verge of a fit of giggles.

Harry lifted and pushed with his legs so that Cho overbalanced and fell over slowly. She rolled onto her back, laughing once more, and Harry got to his feet to regard the supine figure. Harry was forcibly reminded how very attractive he had always thought she was, unaware that he was holding his breath. He tore his gaze away from her, feeling a little rude for what he had been doing, and busied himself with scanning the ground for their abandoned broomsticks.

She brought her arms over her head and straightened her whole body, and Harry couldn't help but regard her again. Cho made a moaning sound, stretching as though she were thoroughly enjoying herself. She relaxed and stared up at the sky, taking in another deep, calming breath.

"Sorry if I was rough," she said, almost mockingly. "Oh, you call that rough?" he returned her mocking tone, but with a hint of embarrassment. With a wry smile on her face she look into Harry's emerald green eyes and reached out her hands to him, her fingers wiggling.

He only discovered the extent of her deception after she had happily accepted his helpful hands, because she suddenly pulled him down. Instantly he thought he was going to land unpleasantly on her, but then felt her feet push into his belly, sending him diving over her and onto his back.

He looked up at Cho, who had nimbly sprang to her feet, and saw the delight on her face as she quickly backed away, biting her lower lip playfully. He got quickly to his feet and Cho's eyes widened. She turned and bolted from him, laughing wildly, and Harry instantly gave chase.

Cho ran like a snitch flew, changing directions often, seemingly at random. Harry was still able to follow her; he was a seeker after all, and he caught up to her rather quickly because of his longer strides. Cho let out a gasp of shock when she looked back to find him just feet away from her.

But Harry hadn't noticed the broomstick she'd been heading towards or he would have tried to stop her from getting to it. Instead he saw Cho go into a rough cartwheel to a backward-handspring, and he had to slow down in order to avoid her feet when they flew up from the ground.

She came out of her flip and stopped to face him holding the broom out in front of her like a weapon. Harry was so amazed to see the broomstick in her hands that he instantly froze, his eyes traveling from the broom, to her defensive posture, and finally to her face.

Harry saw a daring in her eyes and, realizing that he knew very little about this playful side of her, decided to stay perfectly still. She gave him a quick smile and then twirled the broomstick threateningly and impressively, making Harry take a precautionary step backward.

It was a very brief display of prowess, which concluded with Cho mounting the broom in sidesaddle fashion and kicking off the ground, all in a single motion. She was instantly out of reach and all Harry could do was stare at her, mouth hanging slightly open.

He watched her with renewed interest. Why hadn't he seen this side of her before, and had it always been there, just waiting to come out? How many others have seen this reckless and carefree side of Cho Chang?

"Hey, what are you doing here? We've got the pitch booked for tryouts all morning." "Sorry," Harry apologized to the two Ravenclaw boys whose names he did not know, "I was just trying to get some flying in before breakfast. I'll be on my way now."

They said nothing in reply, but cast him an unfriendly look before heading to the center of the pitch with the quidditch chest between them. A second later Cho landed next to him as he gathered up his broomstick, and he was a bit disappointed to see that the playful smile had gone from her face, to be replaced by an anxious, almost sad expression.

Harry looked into her eyes, not entirely sure what she was thinking, but hopeful he could leave her on a happy note. "Good luck," he finally said, and Cho's expression grew soft, even warm. "Thank you," she answered with a small grin.

Harry didn't really want to leave; he wanted to stay and root for her, but he knew it was out of the question. "Let me know how it turns out," he asked suddenly, after Cho had turned to leave. "Okay," she answered, looking back at him, "Next time I see you, then."

Harry left the pitch a bit subdued. He was thinking about the girl he had just had a wonderful time with, the one he'd been infatuated with ever since his third year. The same girl he had resented all summer holiday after their disastrous attempt at a relationship.

Now however, he had a strange desire to comfort her. But something inside him, his heart perhaps, seemed to be holding a grudge and his thoughts wondered back to the things that had gone wrong between them.

True she was a bit confusing, but then again, Tonks had made it all sound so logical. After that particularly long conversation, Harry hadn't even thought about Cho until he had seen her again, and that had been a pleasant experience.

It also looked as though Cho had done a bit of growing up. She seemed not to care for trifles like popularity and gossip anymore. It wasn't a secret that she'd been avoiding most of the giggling girls that use to hang around her, and now she was usually to be seen by herself or in counsel with professors Dumbledore and Flitwick. Indeed, Cho hadn't even dolled herself up for the Gryffindor ball and, according to her, only came because Gabrielle really wanted to be there.

And then there was her friendship with little Gabrielle. Cho was in her seventh and final year at Hogwarts, which is traditionally the hardest time in a student's career, but still befriended someone who, because of her innocence and unfamiliarity, was sure to need a lot of attention.

Come to think of it, Cho was probably giving Gabrielle English lessons in her spare time. The little girl already spoke better English than her older sister, and although her accent was still noticeable, it was positively cute and even a bit hypnotic.

Harry was just about halfway to the castle when he caught sight of a group of Ravenclaws, a few of whom would obviously be participating in today's tryouts as some of them had their broomsticks shouldered.

He stopped to regard the hopefuls who would, of course, be competing for Cho's rightful spot. It was then that he realized the weight on his shoulders from the broomstick he had accidentally left the pitch with. He turn around, half-thinking he could just return it, when he heard someone call his name.

Marietta Edgecombe had detached herself from the group of Ravenclaw students and now approached him at a brisk pace. "Hi Marietta," he said when she was almost to him. She smiled very briefly and linked her arm in one of his and led him back in the direction he'd just come.

"I assume by that broom you're carrying, that you've just come from the pitch. Did you see Cho there?" She seemed somewhat giddy, which made Harry immediately feel defensive. "Yeah, she's practicing," he said.

Harry stopped to face her. It was hard to read her expression, but it was obvious she was feeling smug about something. She looked over at the group of Ravenclaws she had been with and Harry noticed that quite a few of them wore sour looks. He and Marietta stood in silence until they passed.

"That's a cheerful lot," Harry said sardonically, looking after them. Marietta grinned. "They're already feeling sore about losing to Cho. They know she's the best one out of all of them. Ah, that's not your broom, is it?" Marietta added.

"Oh, no," he said, offering it to her. "I forgot I was holding it when I left." Marietta smiled. "What," he asked, feeling defensive again. She shrugged, still smiling, and took the broom. "What do _you_ think of her," she asked, and Harry flushed.

"I think she's great. I mean, what's not to like?" Marietta laughed. "I was talking about her chances." "Oh, ah... so was I," Harry said quickly, "What's not to like about her chances?" He smiled, rather weakly. "Good, because she hasn't been interested in flying again until now, and I thought she might be a little rusty."

This was shocking news to Harry. "Cho hasn't been interested in flying," he said doubtfully, "Since when?" Marietta sighed. "Since the quidditch final last term." Harry remembered Ron saying that Cho had chucked her broom.

"But I thought... that was her Comet she was using," he said puzzled, but Marietta got his meaning. "I fetched it for her, just in case she still wanted it. I hope she gets her job back, I mean, with the scout coming to Hogwarts."

Another shock. "Scout," Harry said, amazed. "Yes, that's right. There's a scout coming to watch one of our matches. My mum heard something about it from someone at work, and she was telling my dad all about it when I overheard."

Marietta looked at the pitch; the goals just visible from where they stood. "No matter how distracted she was about," she paused, her eyes catching his, "...things." He saw a little resentment on her face before she returned her attention to the pitch. "She's always wanted to play for the Tornadoes."

Then Marietta fixed him with a contemptuous look. "I hope you wished her luck," she began, "It would have been the least you could've—" but Harry cut her off quickly. "Of course I did. I would've stayed and..." he started to say, but he stopped himself.

Marietta looked surprised for a moment, before her expression turned serious, almost grave. "She's been through a lot. She's better now, sure, but I still feel a bit... sorry for her." Harry didn't answer right away; he was deep in thought. The strong desire to comfort Cho had returned, and he had to shake his head clear. "I'll see you around," he finally said to Marietta.

Harry sat quietly at the breakfast table surrounded by his one-time committee members as their all-eating-together had turned into something of a habit. At present however, Harry did not feel the camaraderie with them, partially because of the jokes, partly due to the fact that he was avoiding looking in Parvati's direction, but mainly because his mind was still on Cho.

But the more he thought about it, the more it just confused him. Cho seemed very normal whenever she had talked to him... happier if nothing else. But then he thought that, compared to the state she was in last year, any improvement would have been a dramatic one.

When the others finished their breakfast, they all agreed to enjoy the rest of the sunlit morning outside by the lake, catching up on homework, as well as gossip from the ball. Harry however, felt like being alone and continued to eat, agreeing to meet them after he was finished.

A few minutes later Harry left the Great hall and turned, not to the oak front doors, but to the marble staircase, returning to the common room which, by now, was devoid of any harassment and promised to be relaxingly quiet. Harry sprawled himself onto a sofa and gazed thoughtlessly into the cold, empty fireplace.

About a half-hour before noon, Harry heard more than one person climb through the portrait hole and was just about to look up to see who it was when one of them spoke. "I bet he's having a lie-in." Ginny's voice sounded grumpy. Harry stayed very still and listened, hidden from view where he laid.

"He already had a lie-in this morning," Ron voice said defensively. "Then he just didn't want to hang out with us, I suppose," Ginny retorted. "Course he did," Ron began, "he's probably just..." but Ron seemed lost for words.

"Maybe his scar is hurting again," supplied Hermione's voice, "and he went to see Professor Dumbledore, or Madame Pomfrey. Haven't you noticed that Harry's been, well... reclusive, lately I mean. I know he was busy with the ball and—"

Ginny interrupted, "We've all been busy with the ball." "Yes, yes I know," said Hermione, "but Harry's been alienating himself from us since we got back, and I think he just needs some time to think, and we should give that to him. We're still his best friends. I know he thinks so."

"How do you know that?" asked Ron, a bit harshly. "Oh, come on Ron. Harry's nothing if not loyal." Harry heard a little bite in the tone she used, as though she said it in spite of herself, and there was an awkward silence.

"We'd better get ready for the quidditch meeting," said Ginny at last. "Right," Ron agreed, a little excited. He heard them walk off, their footsteps echoing in the otherwise empty staircases. A few minutes later, Harry rose from the sofa and bounded upstairs.

"What happened, mate?" Ron asked after Harry entered their room. "I went looking for Dumbledore," Harry began, and on an impulse, added, "but I ran into Marietta. She says there might be some visitors during quidditch season, whatever that means."

"Okay," Ron said slowly. Harry opened his trunk and extracted his top-of-the-line Firebolt racing broom, and as usual Ron stared in amazement. "You know, I can never get tired of seeing that thing." Harry noticed the tentativeness in Ron's voice again, as though hoping he wouldn't remind him of Sirius, so he answered with a grin.

As he changed his clothes, Harry noticed Ron waiting for him and realized that he was expecting him to walk down to the pitch with him and probably Ginny too. "Why do you have grass stains on your clothes already?" Ron asked suddenly.

"Oh, because I fell," Harry answered casually. Ron gave him a quizzically look. "When my scar hurt again, I mean." This seemed to satisfy Ron's curiosity because he grimaced in sympathy, but Harry still had to think of an excuse that would let him leave Gryffindor tower alone.

"I have to go down to the hospital wing," Harry said in the middle of pulling on his sweater. "I recon I need a calming draft before I get on a broomstick." "Oh, okay. I'll tell the others you'll be a little late, then."

"Thanks," he said to Ron, but more so to Hermione for thinking up his excuse for him. "But you guys should start without me. I don't know how long I'll be with Madame Pomfrey." Ron nodded. "See you later, then," he called as he left.

Harry reached the lake around twelve o'clock and was just wondering how he would go about looking for Hermione, when a familiar beach tree caught his eye. And there was Hermione, peeking out from behind its trunk, looking anxious.

When Harry reached her she immediately headed towards a denser patch of trees and bushes, presumably for more privacy. Harry followed her, apprehensively awaiting that feeling of desire to return, as it had done so the past couple of times he and Hermione had been alone together. Instead he noticed that the scent he now associated with her had gone, and on closer inspection, realized she had changed her clothes as well.

When they reached a cramped clearing just at the edge of the lake, Hermione turned to him. "So talk," she half-demanded. Harry felt taken aback, and cleared his throat uncomfortably. He thought she would exercise some preamble that would allow him a moment to prepare, but now he realized she was determined to hear whatever it was she thought he had to say.

Harry put on an affronted look, which worked because Hermione was immediately embarrassed. "I didn't mean it to come out like that," she apologized, and Harry grinned at her, knowing it would relax them both.

"You're not wearing that perfume, are you?" he asked casually; he was half-thinking out loud. Hermione suddenly looked uncomfortable. "I forgot to put it on," she said lamely. Then she slowly looked into his eyes. "Do you like it?" she asked tentatively.

Harry paused just before he could admit it, interrupted by an image of Ron and Hermione holding hands, and immediately felt jealous. She's probably wearing it because it was Ron who gave it to her, said a voice in his head, and it wouldn't really matter what you thought.

Harry looked up at her. "It doesn't matter what I think, I mean, if you really like it." Hermione looked a bit hurt. "I'd like to know," she answered, which told Harry quite plainly, that she knew what he was thinking.

He had a strong feeling that, if he told her he didn't like it, she would probably stop wearing it. But then where would things go from there? He supposed they would stop thinking about Ron whenever they were alone. But they could hardly hide this from him, and he would definitely be very upset with the pair of them. Still, Harry felt the need to hear it from her.

"What if I told you that I don't fancy when you wear it?" he asked, looking into her eyes, totally unaware that he was now holding his breath. "I suppose I really wouldn't want to wear it then. Not if you don't like it." Harry's urge to hold her returned, but just as quickly, so did the feeling of guilt.

"Would that make you feel better?" Hermione asked, and quite suddenly, Harry thought of Cho and how he had wanted nothing more than to make her feel better. He dismissed the thought with a shake of his head, and Hermione looked confused.

"I don't know," he admitted. He began to say, "How would Ron take it," but then he remembered chasing after Cho that morning and instead said, "How would Cho—Ron I mean... how would he take it?" Hermione gasped and her eyes took on a vivid shimmer. "You're..." she choked, "...you're right, of course."

It was then that Harry realized that this was as far as anything could go between them now. He gave Hermione a helpless sort of look, which she returned with a weak smile. After a moment however, Hermione recovered her composure and, to Harry's slight surprise after his subtle rejection, reached out and took his hand affectionately.

"Harry," she said with an optimistic grin, "I'm here for you, whenever you need someone to talk too. You know that don't you?" Harry could hardly believe what he was hearing, but was so moved by her sentiment that, without a second thought or the slightest hesitation, he pulled her into such an embrace that she was briefly lifted off the ground.

She laughed and gave him a warm smile as he released her. Harry saw that her eyes looked tearful again, but he automatically assumed that that was natural. It was then that he decided to tell her what had happened.

"Sit down," he said, taking a seat on the ground in front of her. Hermione sat down directly in front of him and rubbed her eyes momentarily before fixing him with an intent gaze.

On an impulse Harry took hold of her hands and stared down at them as he prepared himself for what he was about to say. Holding her hands made it seem easier somehow. Hermione gave a gently squeez and he felt her eagerness.

Harry took a deep, calming breath and then looked right at her. "I kissed Parvati," he said quickly; he had to force it to come out. Hermione's reaction was pretty much as he expected. Her eyes widened, then blinked and, apparently without realizing it, she tightened her grip on his hands.

"You kissed her?" she asked, amazed. "Well, it was really the other way around," he said desperately, "I mean, I didn't start it." Hermione grinned. "No, I suppose you never do, do you?" "No, I guess not," Harry admitted, a bit sourly, "but so what? It's not like I'm scared or anything. I just haven't tried, that's all."

"I know," Hermione said, looking distant, and Harry was relieved to hear that her answer carried not even the slightest hint of sarcasm in it. "Another one of those ideas you, just-went-along-with, I suppose," she repeated his words from the stairwell this morning, but before he could retort, Hermione continued. "Well, did you enjoy it?"

"No, absolutely not," he answered. Hermione raised an eyebrow and fixed him with a penetrating stare not unlike one of Professor Dumbledor's. "Well, maybe a little—but I fancied Cho's a lot more." Hermione laughed.

"What," he asked defensively. "Was she that bad, or was Cho that good?" Hermione grinned, and Harry felt his face turn red. "Yes, I mean no, not bad... just different." "And you know which one you liked better," Hermione suggested. Harry nodded.

"And I know we're past that now—me and Cho, but I don't like Parvati that way." Hermione shrugged, "Well that's okay, just act like nothing happened." "But what if it gets out or," Harry paused, a chill running down his spine, "what if she thinks I fancy her?"

"Who, Cho?" "No, Parvati." "You fancy Parvati?" "No, I fancy Cho, no one, I mean—uhhhhhhg." Harry was starting to get sick of Hermione's grinning now, but the next thing she said drove the anger from him.

"Don't worry about Parvati," she smirked at him, "she won't be mentioning it." "How do you," Harry began, but Hermione quickly put a hand to his mouth and shook her head. "Trust me, this won't get out. I can make sure of that." Harry's anxiety ease considerably at the thought that Hermione was often right about these things—most thinks actually.

"Now," she said very businesslike, "what about Cho." "What about her?" Harry mused. Hermione clicked her tongue and gave him a sideways look. "We're just friends now," Harry said honestly. "But you've fancied her for ages," Hermione reasoned. "Well," Harry sighed, "I've changed a bit. Maybe I've done some growing up."

"Yes, you have," she told him wistfully, "but then, so have a lot of us." It was as though a light had gone on in Harry's head. "You mean Cho, don't you?" Hermione stood up, still holding onto one of his hands, and helped him to his feet. "Well, yes, I do."


	6. Friends No More

Chapter 6: Friends No More

When Harry entered the Great Hall for dinner that evening, he immediately noticed Marietta and Dean in conversation, but by the time he reached them, Cho's friend had already started off toward the Ravenclaw table. "What did she want," Harry asked Dean when he reached him, "was she looking for me?" Dean shook his head. "No... actually, she was looking for Ginny."

"And where were you," Ginny asked heatedly the moment she took a seat across from Harry, and he was instantly reminded of Mrs. Weasley. He automatically recalled something Fred and George had said about their mother on one occasion in which Mrs. Weasley berated Mundungas Fletcher for having brought stolen merchandise to the Order's secret headquarters. "You've got to head her off early, otherwise she builds up a head of steam..."

Harry hitched a scowl onto his face and interrupted the little Weasley when she opened her mouth to continue. "Will you give it a rest Ginny. I needed to clear a few things up and I lost track of time." He glared at her, and she suddenly looked put out.

After a moment, she cleared her throat uncomfortably and spoke in a voice filled with forced calm, "We picked a new captain." "Oh," asked Harry, sounding mildly interested, "Who?" "Ron," she said simply. Her answer didn't really surprise him but judging by the look on her face Ginny was obviously expecting him to react differently. "You probably would have been made captain," she continued, "if you showed up, I mean. Katie and I didn't want the job, but..." Ginny made a helpless gesture with her hands.

Harry thought for a moment and a not-so-distant memory came to mind. He and Ron were in their first year and standing in front of the huge Mirror of Erised. He remembered what Ron told him he had seen in the mirror; his best friend's deepest, most desperate desire. That he, Ron, was Gryffindor's quidditch captain, and Hogwarts' Head Boy.

"Excellent," Harry said finally. Ginny's eyebrows shot up in obvious surprise and she gave him a sideways look. "Ron's better at tactics and scouting than I am," Harry began, "and I don't fancy the load that comes with being captain, I mean, I remember how it was for Oliver..."

"Really Harry?" Ginny asked, "Because Ron was worried you'd be crossed with him. He even said that we should postpone picking a captain until everyone was there." Harry looked up and down the Gryffindor table, and then back at Ginny. "Where's Ron and Hermione." Ginny grinned, and Harry suddenly felt a little jealous.

"Ron went looking for Hermione after the meeting," she admitted, "He wanted to tell her the good news, I suppose." Harry let it drop and sat down feeling somewhat deflated. In spite of this feeling however, Harry was genuinely happy for his best friend, just as he had been when Ron had been made a prefect over him.

"Well done mate," Harry told Ron, when he and Hermione turned up at dinner a few minutes later. "Thanks," Ron said, taking a seat next to him. "You should have been there, mate. You could have been captain, I mean." Harry shook his head. "It was meant to be this way. You'll make a better captain than I ever would have." Ron looked choked up and, instead of speaking, merely grinned.

Harry saw Ron steal a quick glance from Hermione, who was looking pleased about something, and Harry concluded that Hermione must have spent the whole of their conversation convincing Ron that he, Harry, would be alright with his appointment.

"So," Hermione said, loading food onto her plate, "what happened at tryouts?" Immediately Ron and Ginny made disgruntled sounds and launched into a volley of complaints about the lack of talent that turned out. Harry looked at Hermione, who smiled at him. Harry grinned back, suddenly realizing that the only reason Hermione had asked about tryouts was for this very reaction.

After dinner, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny headed off to yet another prefect's meeting, leaving Harry in a lonesome melancholy. By the time he had reached the Gryffindor common room, a now familiar restlessness filled him and he was soon to be found in his dormitory room, kicking open his trunk.

Harry slipped his hand down his folded clothes, reaching straight for his invisibility cloak folded neatly at the very bottom. He made contact with a bundled up sock that held something solid within, and Harry knew exactly what it was. The next thing his hand ran into however; something like a small book or diary, made him paused to think of what it could be.

Harry grabbed hold of the item and extracted it from the rest of his possessions. He froze in shock when he realized what he was holding in his hand. It was the two-way mirror that Sirius had given him last Christmas, which he had broken after his godfather's death. Harry had repaired it one day at Miss Figg's house, and he had long since forgotten about it. Now however, an emotional flood of guilt and sorrow consumed him and his hands trembled.

"Harry?" someone asked from just beyond the doorway. Instantly Harry's emotion transformed to rage and he turned to the dormitory door. "What!" he shouted and something odd happened. Harry felt a surge of something jump from his body and towards the frightened little first-year that had called his name.

A haze blurred the area at which the surge from Harry was directed, but just as oddly, the force, whatever it was, seemed to pass harmlessly over Mark Evans, doing little more than ruffle his hair; Mark's image had remained clear and focused.

At first all Harry realized was that he was yelling at someone who didn't deserve it at all, but then, as if watching something for the second or third time in slow-motion, he finally registered the phenomenon. "Sorry Mark, I didn't mean that," he pleaded, struggling to calm his brain from racing as he filed the memory somewhere at the back of his mind, "I've been having a really bad day, is all."

Mark blinked, still looking a little shaken. Harry tried smiling, which seemed to work because Mark relaxed slightly. "I want to lend you something," Harry said, a sudden idea coming to mind, "Come over here for a second." Harry turned back to his trunk and dug through his belongings. He deposited the little mirror back into his trunk as he pulled out his pocket sneakoscope.

"I didn't mean to," Mark began cautiously, but Harry interrupted him. "It's not you Mark, really." Harry revealed the small, spindle shaped device, which had expectedly stopped whirling the night Ron's pet rat, then known as Scabbers, had disappeared from this very dormitory.

"What is it, something magical?" Mark asked curiously. "Yep, it's a pocket sneakoscope. It spins and whistles if there's anyone you can't trust nearby. I imagine it can help keep your stuff from walking off. It's not a hundred percent reliable, but it's better than nothing. You can give it back when you like." "Thanks," Mark replied, gazing at the sneakoscope intently, "It balances on its point like a top when it spins, only it's not spinning."

Harry closed his trunk slowly, trying to preserve the calm mood. "Ah... Harry," Mark began timidly, and Harry had to give him another grin. "Colin and Dennis asked me to come get you—sorry." Harry shook his head. "No problem," he began, "and I'm really sorry about, earlier, okay?" Mark smiled. "Let's go see what they've got," Harry said excitedly, knowing exactly why the Creevey brothers wanted to see him.

Harry and Mark entered the forth-years' dorm room that Colin Creevey shared with his classmates. There were several lines of hanging negatives stretching along the tops of the four posters, and a long table besides the furthest bed, presumably Colin's, holding quite a few basins containing various, clear liquids. Hanging above the basin filled table were more lines where several photos hung in various stages of developing.

The Creeveys looked up from a set of photos they had been reviewing and gave them a broad smile. "We've got them right here Harry, just like we promised," Colin said. Harry walked up to him and his brother Dennis, who handed him the pictures with an expression of utmost pride, turning Harry's anticipation into excitement.

Although these were stationary, the way muggle photos were, there was something uniquely captivating about each picture that, however ordinary it might have looked, still held Harry's gaze for a few seconds at a time and he struggled with himself to get through the lot.

Each picture brought back the same feeling he had had that night; of how things were suppose to be. He decided that, if he had had to wait a whole week to see these pictures, it would have been well worth it.

"Thanks Mark," Colin said, holding out a small photo to the young Gryffindor, and Harry tore his gaze away from the ones he had been admiring. "Is that what I think it is," Mark asked excitedly, taking the photo with a slightly trembling hand. Harry walked up behind Mark and looked at the photo over his shoulder.

"Harry," Mark called, turning around and almost colliding with him. "Oh. Sorry. What do you think?" the boy said, holding out the photo, his hand still a bit shaky. Smiling, Harry accepted the photo and examined it more closely. "You two look good, only, you look a bit nervous." "I was," Mark confessed, "I suppose I was still a bit, ah... shocked."

Harry continued to stare at the photo, particularly at Gabrielle, and then he remembered something she told him. "She wanted me to tell you that she enjoyed herself, and that she hopes she sees you again." Mark goggled at him.

"Thank you for keeping her company, Mark," said Harry. "You don't have to thank me, Harry. I enjoyed myself too," said Mark. Harry raised an eyebrow, and Mark flushed. "In a gentleman kind of way, I mean," he assured him.

Harry laughed and, suddenly noticing another photo beneath the one of Mark and Gabrielle, thumbed the top one to his free hand. Harry felt his heart stop momentarily when he saw the soft, beautiful smiles of both Gabrielle Delacour and Cho Chang.

The picture showed Gabrielle seated on a plush chair with Cho standing behind, her hands resting on the young girl's shoulders, and Harry remembered Madam Maxine holding Gabrielle's older sister Fleur in that same protective way.

The longing to comfort Cho returned with renewed vigor and it was a moment before Harry realized the others in the room watching him stare at her image. "You can have that one if you like," Colin said to Harry, "It's easy enough to make them another one." Harry thought for a moment, "Yeah, thanks," he said absentmindedly, his thoughts returning to Cho, "I think I will hang onto this one."

The next thing Harry knew, he was back in front of his open trunk, teetering between hiding the little photo and continuing to gaze at the image of Cho and Gabrielle. Harry felt something brush his legs and, looking down, saw the familiar bandy-legged, ginger form of Crookshanks.

"I know, I know," he said to the cat, "I must be mental." Crookshanks looked up at him and purred. Harry, feeling somewhat talkative now, knelt down and scratched the spot between the cat's ears. "I donno," he continued with a quick glance at the photo in his other hand, "only it's not looking very good for her right now, and I wanna be there, as a friend, I mean."

Crookshanks continued to purr, bolstering Harry's eagerness to talk, so he continued. "And she's always been nice to me," he added as an afterthought. Crookshanks however, stopped his purring and fixed him with an intent sort of stare.

"Before, I mean," he corrected himself defensively. "And besides, it's not like we still fancy each other, so there's nothing the matter with my being her friend, right?" he asked, looking at the photo again. Crookshanks began to lick himself.

"Do you think I'm a nutter?" he asked the cat, who merely continued its grooming. "Well I'm not!" he declared to no one in particular, "I know I'm not." Harry paused, deep in thought, and then his shoulders slowly slumped in defeat. "But here I am, talking to a cat," he sighed.

Crookshanks hopped up to the foot of his bed and started to purr once more. "You're right," he muttered, "I think I will go to bed now. "Oh, Hermione's gonna be a while," he told Crookshanks, "She's overseeing tonight's detention, with Ginny, I think."

That night Harry had a strange dream; that he was back in the DA room, gazing at his reflection in a huge mirror. "You said you would dance with me if I showed up," Cho's voice came from behind him, and Harry wheeled about only to find himself face to face with Hermione. "You did promise her, you know Harry," she began to say, "I think you'd better make it up to her. How about... your Firebolt?"

"I can't," Harry protested, "Sirius gave that to me." Hermione shrugged. "What are you on about anyway?" Harry complained, "You don't even like each other." Then he heard a muffled, distant-sounding voice. "Now... where is my little comet?" Then Harry felt slender hands close around his neck. They began squeezing gently and he struggled to breathe.

When Harry awoke in the pitch dark, early morning, he was shaking with nerves and gasping for breath. Automatically he found the divide in the curtains of his four-poster and, a moment later, was wrapped in the heavy cloak with a firm grip on his wand. He instantly felt warm and his shivering abated as his nerves slowly ebbed away. Harry realized the futility of remaining in bed and soon made his way restlessly to the common room.

When he emerged from the dormitory stairs, he immediately noticed Crookshanks, who was sitting in front of the cold and gloomy, unlit fireplace, staring into it. "You again," he laughed, walking over and taking a seat on the floor next to the cat.

"He's not going to pop his head through the fireplace, you know," Harry said numbly. Crookshanks mewed and sniffed at the cloak Harry had on, then jumped up onto his legs where he perched himself, purring.

"You miss him too, don't you?" he asked his early morning companion, feeling a wave of grief welling up inside and pulling the cloak tighter about him. Harry lit the fire with his wand and absentmindedly pet Crookshanks, whose somewhat morose purring reflected Harry's sullen mood. But his restlessness came over him once more and he lifted a rather hesitant Crookshanks from off his legs.

"See you later," he mumbled, heading for the stairs. Harry crept back to his room, changed his clothes quietly, and left again carrying his Firebolt. He made his way down the marble staircase with his excitement mounting when he suddenly noticed the amount of noise he was making. The pictures around him were beginning to stir now, and a few cast disapproving looks as he passed.

"Why are you flying down the steps," asked one of the portraits. "I'm not," Harry said smiling, "but there's a thought." He peered over the inside rail and counted about five more flights. Harry felt a rush of excitement and turned back to the portrait. "Thanks for the idea," he said, and then he imagined Cho's playful expression, egging him on.

Without so much as a pause to draw breath, Harry jumped over the rail and, freefalling, mounted his Firebolt, which surged with so much force and speed that the broom itself seemed thrilled. A second later Harry could no longer feel gravity pulling him earthward, but rather, felt the broom beneath him carry him forward, faster and faster.

Harry pulled out of his dive and decelerated to a stop, touching down right in front of the oak front doors where he paused to relive the last six seconds. With stifled excitement he quietly crept outside where the morning sun was just beginning to rise behind the tall evergreens to the east, throwing huge shadows along the dew touched school grounds.

Harry felt the chill of the morning air and, to keep warm, decided to jog to the pitch, rather than fly there, which had been his initial thought. As his strides carried him further and further away from the silent castle, a sudden thought occurred to him and he quickened his pace, fueled by a new sense of excitement after realizing that Cho Chang might already be there practicing.

Harry ran straight through the locker room and onto the pitch, looking up as he slowed to a stop, gasping for air. And then he saw her, not zooming through the air as he had expected, but on the ground, sitting cross-legged with her back towards him. Harry watched her for a moment while he caught his breath and, whether she had heard his sharp gasping or felt his eyes upon her, she looked over her shoulder to greet him with a smile.

Harry walked up behind her. "I suppose I did okay," she said when he reached her. Cho was, of course, referring to the Ravenclaw's tryouts yesterday. She had, after all, agreed to tell him how she did the next time they saw each other.

"So they haven't decided yet," he asked her. Cho shook her head, took a deep breath, and then leaned all the way back until she was flat on her back, looking up at the sky. "It's another nice day," she commented, shifting her gaze with each blink as she scanned the small cloud flotillas above.

Harry collapsed onto the ground next to her, also taking a deep breath, and landed with his head about two feet away from hers, though their bodies went in opposite directions so that the clouds Harry saw moving from left to right, from Cho's vantage point, moved right to left. They laid there for a few minutes in silence, enjoying the clouds and the birds going by, occasionally sharing a grin.

"That one looks like a raven," Cho said, pointing to one of the clouds, "The one over there." Harry, who had an upside-down view of the cloud, disagreed. "It looks more like a lion, to me." "You mustn't have your glasses on straight," Cho said, "because that looks nothing like a lion." "Maybe you need to get a pair," Harry countered, "because it looks more like a lion than a raven."

"Oh really," Cho said sardonically. Harry smiled, feeling smug about his retort when, without warning, Cho snatched his glasses from off his face. Harry made a swipe at them but he missed, and all he could see was her blurry form trying them on. "Geeez," she said, practically giggling, "You're blind!"

"It's not that bad," Harry protested. "No, it's not," Cho agreed, "But this explains some things." Then she mumbled to herself something that Harry heard nonetheless, "A lion, honestly." She stretched her hands out in front of her face and marveled at their featureless form. "Very funny," he replied, removing the glasses from off her face, "They just work better on me than they do on you."

Cho's soft smile came back into focus as he replaced his glasses. She rolled onto her elbows to stare at him. "They work well enough when you're after the snitch, I suppose," she said approvingly, but Harry had seen Cho's eyes flick downward very briefly and a slight frown touched her lips, as though she had just realized something disappointing, and Harry guessed it had something to do with the word 'snitch'.

A feeling resurfaced in Harry's memory and he suddenly had a disappointing vision of Cho having a tantrum; upset over her loss at last term's final. Cho however, merely smiled again. "Harry, you are the best flyer I've ever met. Do you know that?" she told him admiringly, "I would never be able to dive the way you do. If I could, I would've had a perfect score yesterday. Does it just come naturally to you?"

"I suppose," Harry answered vaguely. His mind was suddenly processing things very slowly because it was busy analyzing the differences between the Cho he knew last term, to the one he was getting to know now. Then he remembered the end of his last conversation with Hermione; the part about Cho having done some growing up.

"Yeah," Harry continued, his mind snapping back to the conversation, "I must get it from my dad." "Really," Cho asked, amazed, "he must have been very good then." Harry nodded, grinning reminiscently about the reputation his father carried as a flyer. But then his grin faltered, his reminiscing interrupted by a vision of Snape's worst memory.

Cho must have noticed his turn of expression because she quickly seized on a different subject. "That Firebolt must be pretty scary to fly," she said casually. But Harry's thoughts suddenly turned to his late godfather instead, and all he could do was look away. "Do you want to talk about it?" Cho asked tentatively, after a moment. "No," Harry answered bluntly.

Although Harry's melancholy thoughts continued to occupy his mind, he was still numbly aware of Cho, who was very still and silent. Her unspoken concern was something of a relief to Harry; she seemed to be giving him time to think, or at least, to recover.

Harry regained his composure and looked back at her. "Let's fly, Harry," she then said, jumping up gymnast-like and reaching out a hand to help him up while she scanned the ground. "Now... where is my little comet?"

The phrase stirred Harry's memory, and he recalled the odd dream he had awoken from just this morning. He remembered Hermione saying, "I think you'd better make it up to her. How about... your Firebolt?" And then it came to him.

Harry sat up, an idea forming in his mind. "Wait a minute... I know what to do," he breathed. "About what," asked Cho, dropping her outstretched hand. Harry paused. He had been thinking aloud and did not mean for Cho to hear.

"Are you alright, Harry," Cho asked anxiously. "Cho, I was just thinking," Harry began slowly, but then Cho grinned. "Did it hurt?" she asked with mock concern. Harry stopped, catching her meaning. "I'm just kidding," Cho said sweetly, "I couldn't resist, sorry." "I gotta remember that one," Harry laughed, and Cho beamed. "Anyway," Harry continued, "I'm sure you could dive better if I show you."

There was a moment of silence in which Cho gave him a sidelong look. "You're gonna teach me how to dive... like you," she said doubtfully. "Yeah, I think you're better than you realize. I'm sure you could do it."

Cho took on several emotions at once. First she appeared shocked, and then she blushed before finally, excitement came over her and she picked up her broom. Harry got to his feet and picked up his broom as well.

"Let's warm up then," he said, swinging his leg over his Firebolt. Cho mounted her Comet and kicked off so quickly that Harry almost thought she was trying to escape from him. And as if this thought had occurred to Cho as well, when Harry caught up to her a moment later, she laughed, "Blast, couldn't get away."

They flew around the pitch for a few minutes, swerving and rolling, ascending and descending, performing standard maneuvers effortlessly, until Cho slowed to a stop by one of the goals, actually dismounting and taking a seat some fifty feet off the ground, inside one of the great hoops. A familiar feeling returned to Harry at the sight of Cho pleasantly perched atop one of the goal posts, and he couldn't help but smile when he stopped in front of her.

"Well, it's good that your fear won't be getting in the way of your flying lesson," he told her, "but do you think that's altogether a good idea, I mean, you've been a bit reckless lately." Harry said the last part with an exaggerated shrug.

"You're one to talk," she answered tartly, and then she coughed something that sounded very much like the name, "Umbridge." "I guess you caught that from me then," he said sheepishly, and Cho smiled. "Oh, I thought you took care of my 'Harry-itis' last term, but obviously, I still have it."

Cho shifted her broomstick in her hands, gave him a quick wink, and slowly rolled backwards so that she fell out of the goalpost she had been perched on. At first, a thrill of fright shot down Harry's spine, but then he remembered his jump from the marble staircase this morning and quickly realized what she was doing. Cho mounted her broom with a fair amount of grace considering she was in the middle of freefall.

When she came out of her dive, Cho met Harry at one end of the pitch. Harry instructed her to follow him through a series of dives that he would make progressively more difficult. Cho did fairly well, although Harry noticed that she was a bit late entering the dives and would pull out a little sooner than he would have. He touched down onto the field and waved her to do the same.

"You're hesitating," he said casually, "and you're pulling out just a bit soon, I think." Cho raised an eyebrow and looked as though she were biting back a retort. "I thought I did alright," she said in an even tone, "I guess I was wrong."

Harry wanted to be honest with her but he wasn't quite sure how she would take it. Cho cleared her throat. "You are the expert Harry," she began with a sigh. "I'm hardly an expert," he replied a bit flattered, but Cho simply shrugged. "Well you're much better than I am so, I'm going to listen."

Cho mounted her Comet once more with a determined look on her face. Harry mounted his as well. "I'll be right next to you," he reassured her with an encouraging nod. Cho's expression softened and she blushed again. They kicked off and, in a rush of wind, flew up to about a hundred feet where they steadied themselves still.

"You can do this, alright," Harry told Cho as she stared at the ground below, "I know you can." Cho nodded, again looking quite determined. "Pull the back end of your broom up when you start your dive. And push it down when you come out of it," he reminded her. "Right," Cho said with a nod, "pull up the back at the start, push out at the end."

They dove at the same time and Harry saw Cho pull up the back end of her broom just as he had instructed her to. They sped earthward at a steep descent with their hair whipping fiercely. Pulling out however was a different story.

Again Cho started out of her dive earlier than Harry did, but he realized why immediately after he leveled off. At the speed they had been diving at, Cho barely missed the ground, her broomtail brushing the grass as she pulled up, and then she quickly landed and dismounted unsteadily.

Harry saw her drop her broom and half-collapse to her knees and he flew back to her with a mounting feeling of concern. Harry landed a few feet from Cho and ran to her side, although he did not dare touch her. She must have heard Harry's footsteps because she turned her face away, but not before he saw that she was struggling to control her sobbing, her eyes over-bright.

Cho took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "I'm sorry Harry," she said in a trembling voice no louder than a whisper, and then she cleared her throat. "I'm fine now." She wiped at her tears and turned to face him, giving him a helpless sort of smile. "I saw what happened," Harry said, "It was your boom, not you."

"I thought I was going to crash," she said dully and then she closed her eyes again, as though she were reliving it. Harry knew instantly that he had pushed her too far. Cho had known her broom quite well and was pulling out sooner than he would have because she knew she had too. Harry felt thoroughly guilty for her present state now and could not think of what to say, although he did have an idea of what he should do.

Cho stood up and turned around again to look at her discarded broom, but before she could take a step towards it, Harry dropped his Firebolt and wrapped his arms around her, gently pulling her in. She did not resist, although she was a bit tense at first, and Harry couldn't imagine who was more shocked at this gesture; him or Cho.

"I was wrong to push you like that," he apologized, "I didn't think about your Comet." Harry nuzzled his chin between Cho's braids. "Stupid broom," she muttered, and Harry tightened his hold. Cho's hand found his arm and gently took hold of it. "I'm sorry I couldn't do it," she said after a moment. "No," Harry said firmly, "It wasn't you, Cho. It was that broom."

Harry slowly removed his arms from around Cho and couldn't help but notice how nice it felt when her hand lingered on his arm. "Let's try it again," he said, picking up his Firebolt. Cho turned to face him. "I don't think I can," she began, but Harry interrupted her by holding out his broom, "You can... with this."

Cho stared at the outstretched Firebolt, shocked, and slowly shook her head. "I can't, what if—" she started to say, but Harry had made up his mind. "It's alright," he continued, pressing the Firebolt into her hands with an encouraging grin, "I know you can do it. I trust you." When he walked past her and picked up her Comet, she looked up at him as though she were caught between shock and excitement.

"Go on, then," Harry said smiling, "Get the feel of it before we try again." Cho looked down at the Firebolt in numb disbelief and carefully mounted it, giving Harry one last look. Harry simply nodded, grinning, and kicked off the ground, and by the time he looked back down to where Cho had been, he felt a rush of wind as she zoomed past him.

Cho's courage had apparently returned and Harry guessed that it was fueled by the thrill that only riding a Firebolt can give. He continued to watch her, feeling quite impressed and remembering how he first felt on that very same broom. He also noticed how gracefully she moved and how natural she looked flying; even her shiny braids fluttered with an eye catching motion, like something swimming through the water.

Harry also realized that his first experience on the Firebolt must now pale in comparison to Cho's, as he had owned a Nimbus 2000, which was far better than Cho's Comet 260. The difference in the improved performance was evident in the way Cho handled it. After only a couple of minutes, Cho was already pushing the broom almost as hard as Harry usually did during a match.

When Cho came to a stop to face him she was glowing and smiling broadly. "Oh Harry," she said, still excited, "this broom is incredible! I really had no idea." Harry grinned back. "Shall we carry on, then?" he asked, suspecting her answer. Cho beamed and nodded, and Harry knew he no longer had to fly beside her.

"I'll watch from here," he said, and with that gave her a few last-minute tips before shooing her off. And he was right; Cho could do it. She did as Harry had instructed, dive after spectacular dive. If he were to give her a grade, he thought, he would have to give her an 'outstanding'. Harry was just about to wave her back after her last dive, when he noticed something odd.

Cho had switched into a side-saddle position before one of her dives so casually that Harry, who hadn't taken his eyes off her, didn't even notice when she had done so. At first Harry felt on edge, never having ridden this way before, but noticed that Cho looked more relaxed in this position, more comfortable.

"How was that?" Cho asked, biting the corner of her lower lip with forced calm. "It was no surprise to me," he shrugged, "I knew you could do it." Cho blushed and looked away in the direction of the castle. "It's almost time for breakfast," she said, still attempting to hide her face.

Harry hadn't realized the time until Cho mentioned breakfast and immediately felt hungry. "You don't happen to have any food with you, do you?" Cho joked. Harry shook his head. "We'd better head back then, I suppose," he said dully. They headed down and Harry was just about to land when Cho suddenly pulled up. "One last dive," she called over her shoulder as she repositioned herself into a straddling posture.

Harry landed and looked up at Cho, who was climbing so high that she was barely discernable now. Harry, hungry and weak from his early start, dumped himself down onto the grass where he sat watching Cho. When the tiny figure of Cho reached a towering height hundreds of feet up, she paused, and Harry wondered if she was making sure that he was watching.

Harry waved one arm above his head, back and forth in great arcs and Cho began her dive. She dove straight down in a rush of speed that turned her into a mere blur. Harry had an odd feeling that he had seen this same dive before. And suddenly, he imagined a huge black dragon with a spiked tail; a horntail.

Harry hadn't seen this dive before, he had done it. Cho pulled up and skimmed the grass with one outstretched hand and then rolled on the broomstick all the way around, before flying back and touching down next to Harry

"I've always wanted to do that," she said breathlessly, "ever since I saw you do it." Harry smiled and rose from his resting place. Cho handed back his Firebolt to him with her eyes downcast, as though gathering her courage. "Harry," she said in a voice oozing with nerves, "I really want to thank you for all this help."

"Well, you're an excellent flyer," Harry said, handing Cho her Comet, "but you needed to really push your broom, and this Comet was just holding you back." Cho looked affectionately at her broom. "It's been pretty good to me," she grinned. "But you understand why you had to use my broom now?" Harry asked.

"I do," she agreed, looking into his eyes. "I just didn't want anything to happen, to your broom, I mean. I know you don't let anyone have a go on it." Harry felt slightly embarrassed. He knew he'd been extra protective with his Firebolt ever since Sirius' death, until now.

"I know it must sound a little—" he began to say, but Cho interrupted him. "Oh no," she said sternly, "I'd feel the same way. All the times my brother wanted to wear my Tornadoes badge, but I wouldn't let him. It's the only thing I have left from my grandfather, so..."

Harry raised an eyebrow, wondering why Cho was telling him this and how it related to his Firebolt. "Your godfather, he gave you that broom, right?" she asked, nodding at the Firebolt. "How did you know that?" Harry asked, suddenly overcome by a wave of shock and apprehension. "Hermione Granger told me."

Harry felt a surge of anger. As far as he was concerned, the subject of his late godfather Sirius was off limits to anyone. Regardless of what was said between Hermione and Cho, Harry suddenly felt betrayed by the pair of them for even having had the conversation. His mind started racing and his grip on his broom clenched into fists.

"Harry, are you alright?" Cho asked nervously, looking as though she wanted to come closer but thought better of it. Before Harry knew it he was shouting. "Been having a good gossip about me, have you," he thundered. Cho scowled but looked down. "No, we haven't, Hermione was—" "Wasn't minding her own business," he cut in, "and neither were you."

Harry advanced on Cho, his temper at its limit. "What is it you wanna know so bad that you have to go off behind my back to find out," he shouted, stopping with his face an inch away from hers. Cho did not move from her spot, although she half flinched with her eyes shut tight and had an expression that looked as though she had just been slapped, or was at least expecting to be.

"It's not like that," she objected, but Harry continued to yell. "You don't know what it's like—none of you do!" Cho looked back at him with tears standing in her eyes. "I didn't—" she began to say, but Harry did not hear anything after that.

His thoughts on Sirius' death, as well as the prophesy came bubbling to the surface. "No one knows what I have to do," Harry barked, "and no one can understand either, especially not you. The truth would just scare you off."

A hundred hateful things to say came to mind but Harry could not lock onto one and instead, mounted his Firebolt and kicked off hard. Harry's anger on the ground quickly turned into recklessness in the air and before he knew it he had flown right into the Forbidden Forest and was now dodging trees and branches at an alarming speed, half hoping he would just crash into something and be done with it.

Harry spent much of the day meandering through the Forbidden Forest, skipping breakfast, lunch, and even dinner. His appetite gave way to vein speculation as to why Hermione would do such a thing. Needless to say by the time Harry finally returned to the Gryffindor common room, his temper had swollen to its bursting point, and he sought out Hermione with vindictive fury.

He found her curled up in a chair by the fireplace looking at something in her hands. Harry's anger took over and he stormed right up to her so that she barely had time to stand up when she noticed him coming. "You!" he said in a dangerous whisper, tossing his Firebolt onto the sofa. "What's the matter," Hermione said alarmed, hiding her hands behind her back.

"You had no right telling her anything," he huffed, struggling to keep calm. Hermione's eyes widened. "Let me explain Harry, please," she begged. "What's to explain," Harry yelled, "I don't go talking about your business with anybody I feel like!" "I only did that," Hermione began, tears welling in her eyes, "because I thought—" "Thought you could do or say what you like to whoever you want," Harry cut in viciously.

"It's not like that," Hermione pleaded, almost sobbing, but Harry would not listen. "Don't you talk about me again Hermione," he screamed, "and I don't ever want to talk to you—I don't ever want to see you... you..." But whatever Hermione was Harry never said because she fled the room howling, half blinded by tears.

Harry watched her run off with a feeling of satisfaction. "She deserved it," he muttered. He turned around, intending to take a seat and unload his tired and hungry body onto the sofa with his Firebolt, when he noticed something on the floor. Picking up the photo he realized that Hermione must have dropped it when she ran off because he suddenly found himself staring at a photo of the pair of them dancing together.

Harry had been so involved swinging with Hermione at the Gryffindor ball that he hadn't noticed when Colin had snapped this picture, but he suddenly remembered the feeling he was having at the time. He had twirled Hermione into him so that his arms wrapped around her and he remembered enjoying every step of it. They looked as though they were having the time of their lives.

He shook his head clear, still feeling angry, but now he felt a bit sorry as well. Harry heard the portrait hole close. "Harry," came Ginny's tentative voice from behind him, "why was Hermione crying?" Harry turned around, pocketing the photo. "She had no right," he said, his anger pushing any sorrow for Hermione aside. "You two had a row? What did you say to her?" she asked. "Nothing she didn't deserve," Harry said evenly.

"Why," Ginny pressed on, "what did she do?" Harry felt his temper flaring again and had to calm himself. "She went and told Cho about Sirius, and who knows what else." "Oh Harry," Ginny said, taking a seat, "I'm sure she only told Cho that stuff because she thought it would help her understand you better." "What! Why would Cho need to understand me better?" he demanded.

Ginny sighed. "Because you and Cho, uh... have unfinished business," she said hesitantly. Harry laughed, "Is that what Hermione told you?" "No, that's what I told her," she admitted. Harry's eyes widened.

"You?" he gasped. Ginny nodded. "Why would you tell her something like that?" Harry asked, flabbergasted. "Because it's true," she said heatedly, standing up. "No, it's not," Harry argued, also rising. "Me and Cho are just friends now." Ginny walked up to him defiantly.

"Yes it is. You two took it in turns to look at each other all night at that quidditch match—and don't act like you weren't pleased at the end because I saw you, both of you!" Harry's anger abated, turning suddenly into apprehension. A small part of him wanted to accept what Ginny was saying, but the rest of him knew Cho did not feel this way about him; not anymore.

"And I suppose you talk to Cho then," he said mockingly, "told you she still fancies me, did she." "No. As a matter of fact, she didn't." Harry made a derisive noise. "She's being thick about it just like you," Ginny continued, "or so Marietta says." "Marietta! What's she got to do with this," he demanded.

Ginny thought for a moment. "I wondered that too; why she was telling me all this stuff, I mean, but she says she owed you or something. She said she's changed her mind about you, whatever that means. Anyway, she knows Cho still thinks about you all the time, but she's just scared to admit it."

Harry thought of Cho's reckless side. "Believe me, Cho's not scared," he said. "Superstitious then," Ginny reasoned, "I suppose she thinks that, if she admits it, something or someone will just mess it all up; like darling Hermione." Harry looked away feeling as though he had just been stupefied. The next thing Ginny said however brought Harry's attention crashing back.

"Oh, and she thinks you're through with her anyway, so..." Harry looked back at her. "Through with her?" he said aghast, "I've been nothing but nice to her!" "You git," Ginny said impatiently, "Cho wouldn't dance with anyone at our ball, and she loves to dance, but she came anyway—probably just wanted to see you. But you, you danced with Hermione and Parvati, and what's her name's sister, and you didn't so much as ask Cho. Well, what's she suppose to think?"

"Donno," Harry fired back, a bit offended, "But I do know one thing. You're mental." Ginny laughed sarcastically, "Am I? Well, at least I'm not scared to admit when I still fancy someone." "Yeah," Harry said mockingly, "I heard about you and Michael Corner. Tell me, did he get tired of snogging Cho?" "No," she replied after a distracted moment, "he never got the chance." Far from upsetting her, this seemed to make Ginny revisit something she had obviously thought about before.

"As a matter of fact," she continued, calmly, "everybody says Cho sort of, stopped talking to anyone about a week before the end of last term. And nobody's really seen her around the school, outside of classes and mealtimes, I mean. Even Dumbledore and Flitwick's been worried about her. Harry, she's a wreck. She's been, ever since you two..."

Harry considered this. If any of this was true, why didn't Cho just say something to him? Then Harry realized that he had done the rejecting last year. But this couldn't be true because he and Cho were really good friends now, or at least they were, until he yelled at her.

"Okay, okay," Harry returned to the conversation, "Let's just say for a second that this rubbish is true. Why tell Hermione then, why not tell it to me?" "Because..." Ginny hesitated, "Because she has to know." "Really," Harry said sardonically, "Why's that?" Ginny's eyes narrowed. "Because of Ron," she said coolly.

"What?" Harry asked feeling stupefied once more. "Oh don't be thick Harry," she half-shouted, "my brother's liked Hermione for ages, but you're all she ever talks about, aren't you?" Harry automatically dismissed this absurd idea.

Then, before he could mention one of the dozen or so facts that would put this rumor to rest, he suddenly remembered something Viktor Krum had told him. "Hermy-own-ninny talks about you very often."

Ginny plowed on, "But if Hermione knew you still fancied Cho, and Cho you, well... she'd want to help you two get back together, and then she might stop talking about you long enough for Ron to go after her, like he would have at the ball until you two did that little jig." Harry protested. "But Hermione doesn't fancy me," he said, almost laughing at the very thought.

"Doesn't she?" Ginny accused, "Couldn't keep her eyes off you that night at the ball, could she? Hugs you every time you meet after holiday, doesn't she?" Harry glared at her, but she persisted. "C'mon Harry. Even in my first year I saw it. I was so jealous. She was always with you." Ginny fell back into her seat looking glum.

Harry habitually sank his hands into his pockets and suddenly felt the photo of him and Hermione. With a pang of guilt, Harry remembered how much Hermione's companionship really meant to him. Then his guilt turned into horror at the thought that he and Hermione might never speak to each other again.

"Where's Ron," he asked, thinking about all the times he and Hermione had patched things up and wondering if he should ask his advice. "I haven't seen him," Ginny shrugged.

"Hullo Harry," Mark said as he walked in, "Hagrid was looking for you." "I gotta go," Harry said to Ginny, who merely nodded, her eyes shut as though her head was hurting. "Mark, bring my broom up to the dorm for me please," he said, heading for the portrait hole.

Harry made his way down the marble stairs lost in thought about Hermione. All he wanted to do was to put his arms around her and make her understand how sorry he was. Then he saw Cho's face quite vividly and remembered that Hermione wasn't the only one he had yelled at today.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, deciding he no longer wanted to think about Cho just now because he had to make things right with Hermione first. "Hullo," said a dreamy voice. "Oh, hi Luna," Harry said, "You ah, haven't seen Hermione Granger, have you?"

"Oh yes. She was in an awful way." Harry felt his heart jump, "Where?" Luna pointed to the oak front doors. "She ran outside, crying." The next thing Harry knew, he was heading off in the direction of Hagrid's hut. He remembered how Hermione had gone there before when she was in this sort of state, and Hagrid would drop anything to help any one of them.

When he reached Hagrid's front door, he decided to listen first and see if Hermione was done crying, but when he pressed his ear to the door, there were no sounds at all from inside. Maybe they were in the pumpkin patch around the back, he thought, realizing how desperate he was to find Hermione now.

Harry wasn't sure what he was going to say to her. All he was sure of was that he really wanted to see her. He made his way around the small hut in a half-daze and his heart was thumping really hard now, his anticipation was fit to burst.

When Harry rounded the corner however, he felt his heart stop. Hermione was in the pumpkin patch, but she was not alone. She was with Ron, and he was kissing her, gently wiping the tears from her face. For a moment all Harry did was stand there, rooted to the spot, but then he felt Luna tugging on his arm and saw her finger pressed to her lips.


	7. The Swan's Reflection

Chapter 7: The Swan's Reflection

Harry could not recall how Luna managed to get him away from Hagrid's hut. All he could remember was feeling empty and betrayed even though Ron and Hermione had done nothing to him. "I'm alright Luna," he said, stopping in his tracks.

"I know," she answered, in her usual dreamy voice, "I just thought we'd better get back to the castle before... well, before it gets too dark, you know." Harry felt grateful to Luna now that he was away from Ron and Hermione. "Thanks Luna," he said, trying very hard to smile. "Well," she said after a moment, "I suppose I'd better get back... homework, you know."

"Right," Harry said, still feeling rather empty. Luna turned and started off. "Luna," Harry called after her, and she stopped and looked back. Harry paused, lost for words. "Thanks," he finally sighed.

"No problem," she said happily, and Harry turned to leave. "I'm usually in the library," she suddenly said, "OWLs, you know... if you ever want to talk." Harry's feeling of gratitude returned and he nodded, "See you around, then."

The next three weeks turned out to be some of Harry's loneliest. He wanted to avoid Ron and Hermione because he did not yet know what to think about their relationship, but he did harbor some resentment for the pair of them. Harry even evaded Ginny Weasley, which was not all too difficult as she spent much of her free time either in the library or with Michael Corner.

Ron and Hermione seemed to be thinking along the same lines. The pair of them suddenly had so many prefect duties that Harry barely had to avoid them. When he did see them Hermione would not look his way, but on the occasion that he did glimpse her face, she wore an expression between anger and wariness.

Ron was a different story. He would still talk to Harry however, it was little more than daily pleasantries. But Harry could not blame Ron for acting the way he did because he knew that, even if Ron did not want to be in the middle of his fight with Hermione, he would be able to do little in the way of keeping a neutral opinion.

No, what Harry actually took offense at was the fact that Ron acted as though nothing had happened between him and Hermione, and it felt as though there was no more honesty between them. Ron would change the subject almost as much as Harry did when anything remotely related to Hermione was lightly touched on.

Before meals Harry took to visiting the kitchens for food to bring outside somewhere where he could be alone. Sometimes he even brought along the Marauder's Map just so he could avoid specific individuals; Crookshanks in particular. Hermione's cat had taken to following him around Gryffindor tower and, although the ginger cat did nothing wrong, as far as Harry was concerned, he was guilty by association.

The library especially reminded him of his troubles with Hermione so that, as much as he might have wanted to be around people, even ones who did not talk to him, he avoided going near the place. Day by day Harry was becoming more and more reclusive so that even the prospect of talking to someone like Luna, who he could loosely relate to, lost most of its appeal.

So it must have come as something of a shock to Harry when he suddenly found himself entering the library in search of the person most students thought of as Looney. He had had it. He was starving for company, even if it was from someone he knew little about. When he finally found Luna hidden away in one of the aisles however, he was not surprised to find her with none other than Neville Longbottom.

"Hi guys," he said giving Luna a pleading look. "Hullo," she answered in her usual demeanor. "Do you want to go for a walk," she asked, shooting a quick glance at Neville. "Yeah Harry," Neville said, "I'm making her take a break from this place." And so, a moment later, Harry suddenly found himself with not one, but two new companions, and he was actually glad it was Neville and Luna.

After a while Harry found that it was not so hard to tell Luna and Neville his more personal feelings. He would not go into detail about how things had gone so wrong, but it was highly therapeutic for him to just go on about what he was feeling. In fact, he was getting rather use to confiding in them and it wasn't until Neville mentioned his parents that Harry realized how open he was, himself, becoming.

One day Neville decided to tell them about his mother and father and, although it seemed like his story was directed more towards Luna, Harry was still affected by it. True Professor Dumbledore had already revealed what had happened to Neville's parents before, but to hear Neville's account of the tragic event stirred more feelings than had the headmaster's telling.

Throughout Neville's narration Harry had to feigned several emotions and expressions; disbelief, shock, horror, and outrage, but oddly enough, he found that he did not need to feign understanding. He was very sensitive to sad stories now and he had a good idea of what to say and how to act when around those who had experienced a tragedy.

By the last week of the month, the three of them had fallen into such a routine that Harry felt a bit disappointed to hear that Luna and Neville would be going down to Hogsmeade the next day as it was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the school year.

Harry had no real desire to visit the wizarding village just now. His last visit on Valentine's Day the previous year was something of a disaster, and all he could think of was a possible confrontation with Cho or Hermione or both.

But after Friday morning's conversation, something occurred to Harry that pushed all other thoughts out of his mind. Luna had asked Harry about the Sorcerer's Stone, having only heard bits and pieces of his tale, and wanted to hear a proper account from Harry himself.

"But I don't understand that mirror... what it actually does," Neville said when Harry had finished his abridge version of the story. "I'm not entirely sure," Harry lied. He was suddenly preoccupied with his memories of the Mirror of Erised and did not want to go into a detailed explanation of how it worked. If he could find that mirror again, he reasoned, he'd be able to see his mother and father once more... as well as his godfather.

He decided to change the subject to give himself time to think. "I miss DA meetings," said Harry, feigning a reminiscent expression while his mind thought about where the mirror might be hidden now. "I miss the DA room," said Luna, "the way it made things that we needed just appear like that."

Automatically it seemed Harry's mind snapped onto the room of requirement. "Actually, I don't think it made those things." Harry gave it some further thought. "Remember that cracked foe-glass?" he asked, and Luna and Neville nodded. "Well, that particular foe-glass was in Professor Moody's office two years ago." Harry smiled as comprehension dawned on their faces. "Why not just provide a brand new one," he hinted.

"Because it takes what it needs from other parts of the castle," Luna and Neville chorused. "Exactly," Harry said, and then his mind stumbled over something. "Exactly," he repeated slowly. And then it hit him. He _could_ find The Mirror of Erised again. He could use the room of requirement to summon it for him.

Harry skipped lunch that afternoon and returned to his dormitory to fetch his invisibility cloak. He had given the matter considerable thought and had what he felt was a satisfactory plan. He would visit the room of requirement right after class, during dinner that evening, while everyone else was sure to be in the Great Hall for supper.

Harry's plan worked fine, and when he turned around after his third pass and saw the highly polished door to the room of requirement, he immediately rushed over and opened it. At first the room was dimly lit and looked exactly as it had done when Harry had seen it last, but after he had shut the door and took three steps into the room, he saw it.

The Mirror of Erised was exactly as Harry remembered it, only it seemed a bit smaller now. Then he smiled to himself, remembering that he had been five years younger the last time he saw it at the end of his first year. Harry stopped several feet from the mirror, tossed his bag aside, and had just pulled off the invisibility cloak when he heard the door handle behind him turn.

The door, which in Harry's excitement he had forgotten to lock, creaked open very slowly. Harry just managed to pull the cloak back over his head, kneeling down beside his bag so that it would also be hidden, before the door had fully opened. "Hullo," the unmistakable silhouette of Cho Chang called out softly, "is there anyone here?"

Harry suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable. He had been invisible around others before and never gave it a second thought, usually because he was just passing them by. Being alone and invisible in a room with Cho Chang however, was quite a different story. Now Harry felt as though he was spying on her, and he did not like the feeling that he was being dishonest like this.

Harry was just considering revealing himself to Cho when he noticed her free hand inside her robes and suspected that it was clutching her wand. He had an unnerving vision of Cho banishing Millicent Bulstrode's jawbone and decided to stay just as he was. Then Cho noticed the Mirror of Erised and immediately looked both puzzled and fascinated. She started towards the huge mirror and Harry knew she was about to receive a shock.

As Cho walked by and passed within a foot of him, a very small part of him wanted to stay and watch her reaction, but that dishonest feeling nagged at him once more and he reached for his bag, intending to leave.

"Harry?" Cho asked, and he froze on the spot. Harry turned around very slowly, wondering how she knew he was there, and frantically trying to think of how he was going to explain himself. But Cho was not looking at him.

She was standing a few feet from the mirror and gazing at something to the left of her reflection. Harry stood quite still, halfway between shock and anxiety as to why she was seeing his image. Then she turned to regard someone to the right of her reflection.

Harry saw her eyes go wide, and she began to tremble. Cho spun around on the spot to see if there were actually people behind her, just as Harry had done the first time he had gazed into this mirror. She turned back around. "Cedric," she said, taking a step closer.

Harry felt as though he were turning green, but he wasn't sure if the thought of Cho seeing Cedric was making him sick, or just a touch jealous. "Cedric," Cho said again in a voice full of forced calm, "Is that really you? But how?" Cho reached out a trembling hand and Harry saw tears welling up in her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in a cracking voice. Harry wanted to stop her now. He had a feeling this wasn't doing her any good at all; on the contrary, it was probably very bad for her. "Say something, please," Cho begged, but then her hand, which had been an inch away from touching the mirror, froze. "You can't, can you," she said in a waning voice, her hand dropping to her side.

Harry felt really bad now. He knew he could have prevented any of this from happening had he just said something beforehand. She let her bag drop to the floor with a thud that echoed lightly throughout the almost empty room. "Well," she began with a hardy sniff, "I guess you know about Harry and me." Cho chuckled slightly. "Did you know he asked me to the Yule ball too, right after you did?"

Cho's expression grew pleasant suddenly, almost relaxed. "I'm sorry I never admitted any of it to you before," she said, and there wasn't the slightest hint of weakness in her voice. "But Harry doesn't like me anymore," she said turning to look at the opposite side of her. "Do you Harry?" she continued, looking as though it was costing her something to realize it.

Suddenly Harry had the strongest urge to tell Cho that she was wrong, but instead, he watched her face loose all expression and she took a few steps back to examine the rest of the mirror. This time her voice was speculative, suspicious even. "What are you?" Cho said slowly, apparently speaking directly to the mirror, "What is it that you do?"

Her expression suddenly turned grim and her eyes were very bright again. "Do you show me the past... what I've lost," she asked, her voice cracking with dread. Tears began to roll silently down her face. "Well," she said sadly, "that would make sense."

Cho closed her eyes, wiping her tears and pushing her hair out of her face by running her fingers all the way up her cheeks and up past her forehead, where they disappeared into her dark curtain of hair. All of a sudden Harry noticed that he was holding his breath.

"Harry," Cho began after she had recovered her composure, "I know I've never said it properly but, I truly am sorry, and I really do still... I mean," Cho paused, lost for words, and her eyes flicked away briefly, as though she didn't have the courage. "I hope you know that..."

Then Cho turned back to Cedric's image and, ashamed as he felt for having heard what had already been said so far, Harry felt like running from the room so as not to overhear anymore.

"I know you want me to be happy," she said, and then her expression turned soft, almost happy. "You don't have to worry about that now... I'll be fine, even if..." she looked at Harry's reflection, then back to Cedric's. Cho lifted her chin proudly, looking to Harry as though she were staring straight into Cedric's eyes. "Good bye, Cedric," she said softly.

And with that she lifted her bag from where she had dropped it, turned, and walked to the door. When she reached the exit she paused and took a deep breath. She looked back over her shoulder and cast one last smile at the mirror. Then she left, closing the door behind her.

Dazed, Harry pulled off the invisibility cloak but did not move for several moments after. His mind was racing with the memory of what he had just witnessed. Professor Dumbledore said that the Mirror of Erised showed someone their deepest, most desperate desire, and Cho had seen both him and Cedric. But Cho thought she was being shown the people she'd lost.

Harry continued to rack his brains, realizing how much he would have appreciated Hermione's help just now, and then lost all further train of thought, unable to take his mind off the troubles that ultimately led him to this room in the first place. Harry decided to do what he had originally come here to do. He stepped up to the mirror and waited.

The images of his father, his mother, and many other family members appeared behind him. Then the image of his godfather, Sirius, stepped out from behind some people. He was smiling and looked very handsome indeed, just as Harry remembered from Lupin's memories. Harry wanted him to come closer, but he remained where he was.

Then Harry noticed someone with his parents, someone it took a moment to properly recognize. It was Hermione, and she was smiling whimsically at him. Numbly surprised Harry looked back at his godfather and then noticed someone standing by him as well, and his heart stopped. There, standing beside his handsome godfather, was Cho Chang. She was also smiling, so softly in fact, that a small grin touched Harry's lips.

Then he shook his head, confusion overcoming his euphoria, and he turned away from the mirror. His mind had taken off again, and he suddenly wanted to do the same. Then a possible answer came to him and he suddenly thought he understood what the mirror was showing him.

That he, Harry, wanted Hermione and Cho back in his life just as much as he wanted to see his family and godfather again. But he had been so upset with the pair of them. Why would he want them back in his life?

Before Harry's head started to really spin, his stomach growled loudly and brought him back to his senses. He picked up his schoolbag and left the room somehow feeling worse than he had felt before he first arrived.

Harry needed some time to think, and since he did his best thinking these days alone outside, made his way to the kitchens for some food to take with him. For some reason he took more food than he usually did; perhaps because he had a feeling he was going to do a lot of thinking tonight. When he was far enough from the castle, Harry pulled off his father's old cloak and stuffed it into his bag of food.

Harry walked along the edge of the lake towards the Forbidden Forest. When he was just about to enter the bushes that led to his favorite hiding spot, something caught his eye. Skirting the edge of the forest was a great, black, bear of a dog. Harry's heart started pounding and his feet automatically carried him towards the beast. When it caught sight of him however, it bolted into a thicket of trees.

"Wait!" Harry shouted, "Sirius! It's me!" But before he knew it he had sprinted towards the thicket and plunged headlong into it, his hands outstretched in front of his face, pushing branches aside. His wildest thoughts were running rampant through his mind now. His godfather wasn't dead, and now he was sure of it. Although he could not see him anymore, he could still hear him crashing through the bushes and shrubs just beyond his vision.

And then, as he entered a partial clearing, a sudden chill came over him and the moonlight that had been pushing softly through the canopy of leaves above disappeared. He could feel his sweat turning ice cold. Harry stopped dead in his tracks and quickly withdrew his wand. And then he saw them, two hooded dementors, gliding eerily over the dank forest floor, their familiar rattling breath making Harry's blood go cold.

"Expecto—" Harry began, but then a shrill cackle echoed throughout the dark forest and his hair felt as though it were standing on end. "_What's wrong little baby Potter_," drawled Bellatrix Lastrange's evil, mocking voice, "_Don't you want to play with the big bad dementors?_" Then she laughed her hideous laugh.

"Expecto—" Harry tried again, but again he was interrupted. "_Do you still miss him... my dear dead cousin? Why not join him... I will help you._" Harry felt as though there were something caught in his throat. "Expecto, Expecto..." but he couldn't do it. Even if he managed to get the words out, he could not cast around for a happy memory.

His mind was suddenly clouded, and a dreadful image emerged. He saw his godfather standing on the dais in the Death Chamber, and he was laughing. "Come on, you can do better than that!" he taunted. Harry knew what was coming. He wanted to close his eyes and run, but he couldn't move or look away.

And then a silvery blur flew across his line of sight, distorting the image of Sirius and the dais. "_What!_" he heard Bellatrix shout, "_Who are you?_" The dark forest came back into focus and he could see something large, its great white wings spread wide, attacking one of the dementors. The other one was already fleeing into the tall heavy treetops, leaving behind a small silvery trail, as though it were bleeding ghostly blood.

The silvery swan collided with the remaining dementor and then vanished, leaving the hooded figure falling backwards where it crashed soundlessly onto the earthen floor. Harry turned and saw Cho Chang, her wand held firmly in her outstretched hand, and a fiery glint in her eyes. He looked back at Bellatrix, who vanished with a pop that echoed throughout the forest.

Harry turned and ran towards Cho. Her eyes were suddenly shut tight and there was concentration etched onto her face. There was another pop and Harry stopped as he saw Bellatrix emerge from behind a tree some twenty feet behind Cho. But before he could cry out a warning, Cho leapt aside, having heard a branch beneath Bellatrix's foot snap in two. Harry also had to jump aside as the jet of red light from Bellatrix's wand, that had barely missed Cho, almost hit him.

Bellatrix hid back behind the tree she had emerged from just as two stunning spells, one from Harry, the other from Cho, shot past her. "_So, you have come to comfort little baby Potter in his time of need?_" Bellatix taunted. "Yes," answered Cho defiantly, and Harry stared at her. He suddenly remembered the same feeling at the Ministry of Magic with Hermione. "Don't let her be dead, don't let her be dead, it's my fault if she's dead..."

Cho looked over at Harry and nodded. Harry shook his head, guessing what she was about to do, but she had already started to run. Harry shot a stunning spell at the tree Bellatrix was behind as Cho continued to run forward. But there was another pop and Cho, who had been eyeing Bellatrix's tree, turned instead and pressed her back against the tree she had just reached, looking wildly around.

Harry plunged his free hand into his bag and pulled out his invisibility cloak. Hastily he wrapped it around himself and then ran at Cho. Somewhere to his left he heard Bellatrix yell, "_STUPIFY_," and a jet of red light shot past him. Almost at the same time Bellatrix cast her spell, Cho had done the same and Bellatrix was forced back behind her tree, cursing furiously.

When Harry reached Cho he flung the cloak around her, slipping out of it as he did. "Get out of here!" he said frantically, "she's after me, not you!" "No!" Cho screamed, and than he was pushed to the ground. The weight of Cho's body pressed on top of his as splinters from the tree rained down on them; the result of a curse hitting the spot where Cho had been.

"_EXPELLIARMUS!_" cried Bellatrix, running forward. Their wands flew up into the air, yanking the invisibility cloak off of them so that it fluttered through the air in a high arch. Quite suddenly Harry heard a roaring sound accompanied by crashing and the breaking of many branches. Bellatrix was blinded by a flood of light and she flung her hands in front of her face to shield her eyes.

There was a screeching sound, followed by a heavy thud and then the uneven purring of a very old motor. Harry and Cho got to their feet. "Come on," he said, grabbing one of Cho's hands and making a break for the Ford Anglia that was idling several feet from the heap that was Bellatrix. Cho looked up, reached out her free hand, and caught the falling cloak.

Harry yanked open the driver side door and Cho dove in, rolling to the passenger side of the front seat before turning her attention to the invisibility cloak. Harry got in and slammed the door shut. The car sped forward and Harry glanced into the rearview mirror and saw Bellatrix getting back to her feet.

"Whose car is this," Cho asked, passing Harry his wand and taking a look back at Bellatrix. "It use to belong to Ron's dad," Harry answered, "and this is the second time it's saved my life." Cho looked at him. "Well actually," Harry reconsidered, remembering how he had been flown away from the Dursleys' house five summers back, "it's the third time." Cho grinned and then stuffed Harry's cloak back into his bag.

There was a loud crash as a curse hit a tree in front of them, causing it to fall directly into their path. The car swerved and spun out of control, throwing up dirt and leaves as it skidded across the uneven forest floor. Harry pulled Cho into a protective embrace just as the backside of the car collided with a tree. The engine stopped abruptly and Cho gasp.

"What do we do now," she whispered, looking up at him from between his arms. Harry caught sight of the tiny silver button on the dash. "We wait," he said, reaching over to push it. "Please work," he pleaded, and a second later the car around them vanished. Then they too became invisible.

Harry felt Cho's hand squeeze his arm. "Harry," she whispered urgently, and Harry looked out of his window. Bellatrix Lestrange had just entered the clearing and was noticeably limping. She held her wand out in front of her and constantly shifted her attention as she scanned the area.

After a moment Bellatrix walked out of view and the pair of them let out a sigh of relief. "We need to get you out of here," Harry whispered. It was an odd feeling, not being able to see either yourself or the person you were talking to. "My broom's still at the pitch," Cho told him. "Good," he began, "Use a summoning charm. Get your broom and go for help, and I'll—"

"I'm not leaving you here," Cho cut in fiercely, breaking away from his embrace. Cho's eyes, the only thing he could see of her, narrowed and there was an angry determination within them. "Look, that's a death eater out there, and this isn't some DA meeting," he told her. "If you still think the truth's going to scare me off Harry Potter, you're wrong," she hissed, taking Harry aback. Cho's hand found its way into Harry's. "We can both manage on my Comet," she pleaded, squeezing his hand tightly, "my brother and I have ridden together loads of times."

They felt the sudden, overpowering chill that could only mean one thing. They looked out and saw a dementor gliding into the clearing. "Right then," Harry said, looking into Cho's eyes, "get your broom, and I'll handle that one." Cho squeezed Harry's hand again and then let go of it. They took a moment to prepare their wands.

"I'm ready," Cho said, and then she winked at him. "Accio Comet." Harry cast around for a happy memory, eventually landing on his time alone with Ron and Hermione right before the Gryffindor ball. Seconds later, Cho's broom came whizzing into view.

The Anglia reappeared as its doors opened wide and the pair of them jumped out. "Expecto Patronum!" Harry bellowed, and an enormous silver stag erupted from the tip of Harry's wand and charged the hooded creatures.

A moment later, Harry turned and saw Cho mounting her broom in her side-saddle fashion. He quickly took position behind her and had just gotten his hands on the broom, reaching around Cho's tiny waist to do so, when she kicked off. There was a popping sound behind them and, a second later, a curse flew by and hit a tree just ahead of them.

They climbed to avoid the falling debris and Cho swerved her broom sharply to the left to avoid another curse. There was another popping sound and Harry knew Bellatrix had disapperated again.

Another curse, this one from somewhere ahead of them, shot past and shattered more branches. Many winged creatures took flight and there was a jumble of screeching, hissing, and flapping in their wake.

"Do you know the way to the castle," asked Cho over the torrent of noise. "No, but I think we're going deeper in," Harry answered, taking notice of the thickening canopy. There was another pop, but apparently, Cho was waiting for it. She swerved her broom hard to the right, kicked off one tree, and then off of another so that they had reversed their direction completely.

"Harry," Cho said suddenly, "reach into the front of my robes." "What?!" he shouted stupidly. "My pendant Harry, take it out. I can't let go so you'll have to do it." The instant he had removed one hand from the Comet's handle, his other hand slipped off and he had to wrap his arm around Cho's waist to keep from falling off.

"Sorry," he said quickly as Cho struggled to steady the broom. "That's okay," Cho said, and Harry suspected she was trying not to laugh. Harry didn't know how he managed but a few seconds later he had fumbled with the neck of her robes, reached down her front, and withdrew the pendant.

"Hold it in your fist and think of Gabriel," Cho instructed him, and there was another pop in the distance. "Why," Harry asked without thinking. "My pendant will point us in her direction." Harry closed his eyes, thinking hard of little Gabriel. He felt the pendant throb softly in his fist, and felt as though his whole body was being gently pulled in a direction slightly to his left.

Harry let go of the pendent and pointed out the direction to Cho, who promptly turned the Comet that way. Another curse flew up from somewhere to their right; Bellatrix was back on their trail. "The back end's too heavy," Cho told him, "we need to switch places to center the weight." And with that, they dove. "We better make this fast," she said, and it was.

The instant their feet touched the ground, Cho's hand found Harry's waist and, ducking under his arm, rolled around him as their momentum carried Harry and the broom a few steps forward. In a heartbeat Cho was in position behind him, her arms wrapped tightly about his middle and the side of her face pressed against his back.

"Go!" she urged him, and no sooner had they kicked off did a curse hit the very spot where their feet had just been. Harry pushed the broom forward, faster and faster while more curses flew at them. He made for a great oak and pulled into a power-climb along its trunk. Harry reasoned that Bellatrix, no matter where she apperates, would have a job of hitting them at this height.

This might have worked had Bellatirx not changed her strategy. She began targeting everything in front of, as well as above them, causing a cascade of branches, leaves, and in some cases, bits of little creatures. Suddenly there was an enormous explosion several feet in front of them, followed by a long creaking sound, and then a loud snap.

A giant tree branch at least forty feet long slowly broke from its trunk and toppled over, directly into their path. With curses still flying to either side of them there was nowhere to go but down. They dove and Cho held on so tight that Harry could barely breathe. They were literally racing the falling branch. "Comet Harry!" Cho shouted, her head still pressed tightly to his back, "not a Firebolt!"

Harry wished she'd reminded him sooner and knew it was too late the moment he tried to pull out. When he kicked the back end of the broom down, pulling the handle up as he did, Cho's Comet reacted much slower than he expected and he knew they were going to crash. But then Harry suddenly felt Cho's legs next to his. She was also kicking the back end down, and he could hear her groaning with the effort of pushing her slender legs.

But it was enough. The Comet's tail brushed the ground hard and twigs broke off for several feet before they leveled off. There was an earsplitting crash right behind them as the falling branch landed, pushing up a cloud of dust high into the air. At the same time a patch of ground just ahead of them erupted, hit by another curse and Harry had to break hard.

Cho, who had been trying to remount her Comet, was unprepared for the sudden lunge and lost her balance. For a second or two, she was able to keep her hold on Harry, but before he could come to a stop, she lost her grip and hit the ground, rolling to a stop beside some tall bushes.

Harry touched down and ran back to Cho with his heart thumping wildly; partially because he was worried about Cho, but also because he knew Bellatrix was still near by. He crouched low and, when he was only a few feet from Cho, dropped her Comet and extracted the invisibility cloak from his bag.

Cho lay motionless on the ground and, as Harry reached her, slowly lifted her head, but before she could even brush the hair away from her face, Harry knelt down beside her, spreading his cloak so that it encompassed both of them. "Don't move," he said urgently, and she lowered her head back down. "Where does it hurt?" Harry asked, brushing her hair aside.

"Everywhere," she joked, grinning and closing her eyes, "but I think I'm alright. Nothing feels broken." Harry suddenly felt light-headed with relief. Then Cho's eyes suddenly snapped open, a look of fright mirrored within them. "She's coming," she whispered, placing a hand on one of Harry's while her other hand found her wand.

Harry quickly pushed her wand down. "No. She might not see us." Bellatrix Lestrage limped into view looking livid, and stopped just a few steps from them. Harry held his breath, and knew Cho was doing the same. Slowly Bellatrix came closer and closer, and Cho's grip on Harry's hand tightened.

But when Bellatrix saw Cho's discarded broomstick, she froze, very quickly hobbled over, and picked it up. For a moment all Bellatrix did was stare at it, but Cho must have realized her next move because she whispered, "Protego," just before Bellatrix shouted, "_EXPELLIARMUS!_" This time Cho's wand did not move, and nor did Harry's cloak.

Bellatrix swore loudly and then, like a madwoman, wheeled around wildly in place, firing curses in all directions. Twigs and dirt were blasted into the air and debris rained down everywhere. Bits of earth and branches landed on Harry and Cho but they stayed still. Then Bellatrix stopped abruptly and, for a moment, just stood there. She swore once more and then mounted Cho's comet, kicked off the ground, and sped off. She was gone.

Harry helped Cho to her feet and was relieved when she simply brushed away the dust from her robes, as though she were merely getting up from a leisurely picnic beside the school's lake. Harry used the pointer spell and a few minutes later, they emerged from the edge of the forest and started towards the castle.

"Who was that?" asked Cho, looking not at Harry, but towards the trees lining the lake. "Bellatrix Lestrage," answered Harry automatically. "She was the woman on that notice, wasn't she?" she said in a dull voice, "One of the ten that escaped from Azkaban." Surprised as he was that Cho realized that fact, Harry's brain had already taken off, and he do little more than nod dazedly.

His mind was racing again with all that had just happened. A not-too-distant memory resurfaced; The Darklord's favor shall assume the task, to rid him of the boy who could be his undoing. Bellatrix had said that she was the Darklord's most loyal death eater. The grim he had seen had been a trick by her, and he, Harry, had fallen for it. He might even be dead now had it not been for the girl walking next to him.

Harry gazed at Cho admiringly. "Cho," he said, and she turned to him. "You were really brilliant back there," he said, smiling. Cho's expression changed from attentiveness to amazement. "You really think so?" she asked disbelievingly. Harry nodded, "Absolutely brilliant."

To Harry's surprise Cho stepped off the path they had been on and headed towards a clump of trees and thick bushes by the lake. Harry followed curiously. "I can't believe it," Cho marveled, making her way through some brush that Harry faintly recognized, "we were pretty lucky, weren't we?"

"I was the lucky one," he insisted, and they emerged into a small clearing. "How did you know I went in there?" Harry asked; the question had popped into his mind suddenly. "I was over there," she said, pointing over to a patch of bushes; Harry's patch of bushes. "I heard you yelling from here; then I watched you go in."

But then Cho looked down rather timidly. "I wasn't trying to snoop," she said apologetically. Harry shook his head. "Don't apologize Cho," he half-demanded, "I was lucky you did what you did." Cho looked up and smiled softly, and for a moment, all they did was stare at each other.

"What were you doing out here?" Cho asked. She turned and headed for the bushes she had pointed out, although she kept her head turned to Harry as though hoping he would follow. "I was on my way here when I saw h...," Harry began but he paused, not entirely sure he should tell her.

Cho continued to stare at him. "I saw a...," Harry sputtered, playing for time. Cho frowned slightly and looked away. "Why weren't you at dinner?" she asked. Then Harry remembered Cho in front of the Mirror of Erised and knew he could not tell her about that either. "I got food from the kitchens," he said, almost changing the subject, "I was gonna eat out here." Cho looked back at him. "You wanted to be alone, then?"

"I'm sort of getting use to being by myself," Harry said unenthusiastically. "Do you mean Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley?" Cho asked, catching Harry off guard. "I heard from Luna Lovegood," she shrugged, stopping as they reached her book bag. "Just remember, Harry," Cho continued intently, "they're not your only friends, okay."

Harry smiled and looked down at her bag. And then he caught sight of something very odd. There, on a bit of parchment, was a small drawing of a snitch, and directly below it, two elaborately embellished, intertwined letters. Harry made out the letters _H_ and _X_ just as Cho knelt down and stuffed the parchment hastily into her bag.

Once again Harry remembered Snape's worst memory, but in contrast to all the other times, this recollection put a smile on his face. He thought about his father's doodle during his OWLs and smiled more still. Cho grabbed the strap of her book bag, looking slightly embarrassed. Then her expression became pensive. "Harry, what did you see?" she asked.

Harry didn't really want to admit it to Cho, but before he could make up an answer, she elaborated. "Who were you calling... when you were on your way here... you said you saw something." Harry knelt down across from her. "I thought it was somebody I knew," he said. "But forget about that," he insisted, "you ah... are you alright?"

"Yes," Cho replied, nodding, "just a little... I'll be fine." She lifted the strap of her bag up to her shoulder and got to her feet. Harry suddenly realized that he did not want Cho to leave and immediately got to his feet. "Cho," he said, trying to stay calm, "if you're not... I mean... I haven't really talked to anyone." Harry let his bag fall to the ground. "And we can talk about anything."

He cast around for a topic, any topic they might share, and before he could stop himself said, "...even Cedric." Now he had done it, he thought. He had mentioned Cedric and any moment now Cho was going to break down and cry. She was going to regret saving his life.

But Cho did not lash out, nor did she break down. Instead, she smiled softly at him and let her bag slide down her arm to rest on the ground. "I don't have to talk about Cedric anymore," she said, "I miss him, but..." "Did you love him?" Harry asked suddenly, surprising even himself. Cho nodded. "Yes, I did," she said casually.

"How do you tell if you love someone?" he asked, for Harry had just remembered a conversation with Tonks in which she tried to explain it to him, and for some reason, he wanted to see if Cho thought the same way. He knew Tonks' explanation made quite a bit of sense, even if it had taken him a while to understand.

Cho turned her attention to the lake and, after a moment, glanced sideways at Harry, as though questioning his motives. "Well first," she began slowly, looking back to the lake, clearly still pondering her answer. "I think you can't help but think about the person, all the time..."

"And second, I think you'll do anything just to see the person..." Cho half-laughed at this point. "And I _know_ you couldn't stay mad at him," she said, giving Harry a whimsical look, "even if you wanted to." Something deep down inside made him sure she was talking about him specifically.

"Why Harry? Who do you think..." but before Cho could finish her question, Harry immediately thought of Sirius and blurted out, "My godfather." Cho's eyebrows shot up. "Oh," she said, looking away uncomfortably; it had, after all, been the very subject that had caused his blow-up at her.

"Did Hermione tell you who he was," Harry asked, unsure exactly what she had been told. "No," Cho said, still a bit uneasy, "only that he... passed on. I'm sorry." Harry took some time to think and Cho, quiet and still, looked back out at the lake. Could he really tell Cho Chang about his godfather? And how would she take it?

Harry made up his mind. Cho had saved him from the dementors and Bellatrix Lestrange even after his severe telling off. He felt closer to her now than he had ever thought possible and he was sure he could be open with her. Harry took a deep breath and Cho turned back to him. He sat down and Cho followed his lead.

"His name," Harry began, and Cho already looked hypnotized, "was Sirius." As expected, Cho's eyes widened. It could not be plainer to Harry that Cho already knew who he was talking about. He nodded. "Sirius Black?" she asked in an unsteady voice. Harry nodded again. "From... Azkaban?"

Harry felt a great sadness push its way into his thoughts and he looked away, his eyes starting to water. Whether or not Cho noticed this change, the next thing she said surprised him. "Tell me about him," she pleaded faintly, as though the fact that he was an escaped convict did not bother her in the least.

"You... wanna know about him?" Harry asked, puzzled. "Well, all I've heard is that he murdered a lot of innocent people," she said, but before Harry could begin to vindicate his godfather, Cho plowed on. "But I'm sure you wouldn't care about him so much if any of that was true, right?" she finished, leaving Harry's mouth hanging slightly open, his angry defense of his godfather's character lodged firmly in his throat.

Harry looked down, thinking hard. He was sure now that he could tell Cho the whole story; that he could share this with her. "But it's alright... if you don't want to talk about it... with me, I mean," Cho said sadly, looking away. "No," Harry half-shouted, and Cho's attention snapped back onto him, "That's not it. It's just that... I've only realized."

Slowly and confidently he reached out and took hold of both her hands. Cho looked down disbelievingly at her own hands, gently cradled in his. "Cho... I can tell you anything... can't I," Harry said, as though he had only realized it. Cho started trembling, and her eyes were suddenly over-bright. "Yes, you can... Harry, I always hoped..." She paused, loss for words.

She cleared her throat and tried again. "I always..." she paused again, but then Harry spoke. "You haven't eaten yet, have you?" he asked, in a casual voice. Cho smiled at him softly, "Not yet," and Harry beamed.

"Well, luckily for you," he said, opening his bag and pulling out the food he had taken from the kitchens earlier tonight. He started to lay it out between the pair of them while Cho made herself more comfortable.

Harry picked up a roll of bread, ripped off a small piece, and popped it into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment and then swallowed. "Sirius was my dad's very best friend," he began, "best man even, when my mum and dad married..."


	8. Back to Madam Puddifoot's

Chapter 8: Back to Madam Puddifoot's

"No wonder you miss him," Cho said in a choked up voice, when Harry had finished his story. She sat up from where she had been reclining and dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a sleeve, laughing slightly, as though embarrassed with herself. Cho's emotion however, seemed to infect Harry's, and tears threatened to fall from his eyes as well.

Harry turned to the lake hoping Cho would not notice this. "I know you didn't fancy when I did it," Cho began, giving him an affectionate kind of look, "but it is alright to cry, you know. Sometimes it's even helpful." Harry wholeheartedly agreed with this and felt a little better.

Then he realized something. "It's funny... I think the last time I cried was right here," he said, in an offhand sort of voice. Far from being surprised Cho merely looked around. "I remember," she said, giving him another one of those soft smiles she seemed to reserve only for him.

Harry's face went pale. "I saw you here," Cho continued placidly, "end of last term, and—" "You saw me... here," Harry said, his feeling of shock turning into embarrassment. He got to his feet. "Yes Harry," Cho said quickly, also rising. "That's why this is my favorite spot now."

Harry stared back at Cho, who took a few tentative steps towards him. "This is where I go to have a peaceful think about things—er, people rather... well," she stopped directly in front of him and looked up into his emerald green eyes. "One person, actually..." and it could not be plainer to Harry that Cho was talking about him.

It seemed that Ginny had been right about her. Cho had been thinking about him, right here, as a matter of fact. This is where she'd spend her free time, ever since the end of last term; the reason nobody had really seen her around much.

Then Harry remembered the scene in front of the Mirror of Erised and his mind sped into action. Cho had wanted to see Cedric, and when she saw him, she told him about Harry, and at the end, she said good bye to him. She wanted closure, he thought—that's what Tonks would say.

She also had wanted to see him, Harry, and when she did, she had apologized, for everything it seemed. It all made sense somehow. Harry was suddenly overcome by a strong feeling of affection for the girl in front of him; the girl who had, just hours ago, saved his life.

Then he remembered how Cho had thought the mirror was showing her the past; who she'd lost. She thinks she's lost him. "This person," Harry said, "He's really lucky." At these words Cho's eyes glazed over, as though she were remembering something, and Harry suspected she too, was thinking about the mirror.

Then her expression turned glum and she looked out at the lake, taking a few steps towards it, away from Harry. "Well," she said, in a quavering voice, "I've already lost him so it doesn't really mat—"

"No," Harry said so suddenly, that Cho stared at him, looking startled. He wasn't going to let her finish what she was about to say. She hadn't lost him. He, Harry, was going to admit what he'd been feeling for some time now; that he still cared about her. He wanted to comfort her, now more than ever.

Nervous though he was about what he was about to do, he walked purposely to her. "You haven't," he said, gently cradling her head in his hands, and now Cho looked a bit frightened. Then Harry kissed her very slowly, very tenderly; letting his nerves drain away.

Cho grabbed a handful of his robes and pulled as though she were trying to keep her balance. Her lips were as soft and sweet as Harry remembered, and when he pulled his face away from hers, he knew he had done the right thing.

Cho opened her eyes and Harry saw that the fright had turned to disbelief. There were tears standing in them, but this time, they were happy tears. "Do you mean it, do you really mean it?" she asked, trembling as though she did not dare to believe it. Harry pulled her into a tight embrace. "Yes... I do," he said softly.

It was hard to tell who was squeezing the other harder. Harry hugged Cho so tightly that he was worried he'd actually bruise her, and Cho held onto Harry as though she never wanted to let him go and, although he could not breathe properly, it felt very nice indeed. After an extended moment, they reluctantly released each other.

"Oh Harry," Cho said softly, "I've only ever wanted to be here for you. You don't know what this means to me... what you mean to me." "Oh... well," Harry said, the image of Cho and the mirror coming to mind once more. "I have an idea," he grinned. Cho smiled and stood on tiptoes to give him a kiss.

Everything seemed to make sense now. Cho still fancied him. And Ginny had known because Marietta had told her. That's why Marietta was looking for Ginny right before dinner on that Saturday after the ball. Ginny had even mentioned how Cho didn't dance with anyone that night.

"I never got to dance with you," Harry said regretfully, remembering that he had been on his way to see her and might have even asked for a dance, had he not taken a little detour named Gabrielle. Cho smiled. "That's okay. I can forgive you for that," she said, grinning, "Mark... Evans, was it—is another story."

"What's wrong with Mark?" Harry asked, semi-defensively. Cho laughed slightly. "Nothing, I'm sure... but Gabrielle is a little delicate, and I just don't want to take any chances, that's all." Harry took hold of her hands. "Mark's a good kid," he reassured her, "and besides, Gabrielle's got you and me to look after her."

"Yes," Cho agreed, "but she's always on about him, and they're still a bit young, you know. I mean, when did you start thinking about someone like that?" Harry considered this. "Well... not until my third year, I suppose."

Cho looked at him quizzically. "It was right before this quidditch match," he elaborated, and Cho grinned, catching his meaning. "She was the seeker on the other team, and she was beauti—" "Okay, okay," Cho cut in, though Harry noticed she had gone pink.

He pulled her into another hug and noted how good it felt to hold someone this way, almost with his whole body. Then he recalled not having felt this warm since the last time he'd worn that odd cloak. And then it hit him. "Hang on," he said, letting go of her.

"It was you... you put that cloak on me when I was here that night." He was half-thinking out-loud. Cho shrugged innocently. "You looked cold," she said, tenderly taking hold of his hands and brining them to her lips, "but I didn't want to bother you."

Harry felt another surge of affection, but he really wanted to stay on the subject. "But it's so big," he said, thinking of how the cloak seemed fit him perfectly and how much taller he was than Cho. "It was my brother's cloak," she replied, but this did not make sense either; Cho's brother was much taller than Harry was.

"It's magical you see," she continued, "It conforms to fit its owner. My brother gave it to me when we were in Hogsmeade; remember how hard it was raining the night term started... anyway, consider it an I'm-sorry present, for how I acted last year."

"You didn't have to do that. I—" "I wanted to," Cho interrupted, "it felt really good when I did it... like I was the one keeping you warm." Cho shrugged and then smiled, and Harry smiled back, noticing he hadn't felt this happy for almost a month now.

"Speaking of last year," Harry said, recalling their fight right before his last occlumency lesson with Snape, "I know I wasn't very, uh... tactful." Hermione's description had stuck out in his mind. Cho simply shook her head. "You had a lot to cope with, I know," she said, as though Harry need not apologize for his part in their breakup.

"Well," Harry said suddenly, "Let's just forget all of that then; just start over, I mean." Cho smiled again. "I'd like that," she said pleasantly. "Well then," Harry said brightly, remembering the first time he'd ask Cho out. He cleared his throat and put on a mock nervous voice. "Ah, do you want to come into Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?"

Cho sniggered, obviously remembering the same occasion. "Oh, yes," she said, in a mock breathless voice. "Right, well that's settled then," Harry finished, and they both laughed. Harry looked up at the moon and suddenly realized how late it must be now.

Cho must have grasped the same thought because she half suggested splitting up, pointing out that, if they were to get caught separately, they might receive detention together.

"As tempting as detention with you sounds, I think I've got a better idea," Harry said, opening up his bag and extracting his father's old cloak. He put it over the pair of them and Cho took his arm affectionately. "Let's get you back to your dorm then, shall we," Harry said with a grin.

Despite the fact that they were under the invisibility cloak, Harry thought that their moonlit stroll was quite romantic. He looked at Cho's face, illuminated by the light of the moon through the thin, silky cloak, and saw a thoughtful expression on her soft face.

"What's up?" Harry asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. "I was just wondering," Cho said, still looking pensive, "Have you been back to the room of requirement lately?" Harry just managed to wipe the surprised expression off his face before Cho's eyes met his.

"Why do you ask," he said, keeping his cool and giving her an innocently puzzled look. She returned her gaze to the oak front doors that were slowly looming nearer. "There was this mirror there and..." Cho paused, still thinking. "It's a little hard to explain," she finished.

Cho looked at Harry again, but this time Harry did not dare look at her. It felt as though she was staring right through him. "Do you think magical devices could be mistaken?" she asked, her thoughts clearly on Harry's image in the mirror.

"Yeah, I reckon they can," Harry guessed. This seemed to do the trick because Cho's face immediately brightened. "I hope so," she said, and then she lovingly squeezed his arm. Harry couldn't help but feel guilty after that and told himself he would be honest with her... from now on, anyway.

Just as they reached the oak front doors, there was a sudden creaking noise and one of the huge doors began to swing open. A seventh year Hufflepuff prefect stepped out, closed the door behind him, and leaning against it so that it would have been impossible for Harry and Cho to enter.

The student rummaged in his robes for a moment and then pulled out something very small, which he brought to his lips. Then he lit one end of the cigarette with a bit of flame from the tip of his wand.

"Disgusting," Cho muttered, and both Harry and the prefect looked in her direction. Surprised no doubt by a voice from an unseen someone, the seventh year dropped his cigarette and took several steps towards them, drawing his wand as he did. Cho quickly turned to Harry. "I'm sorry," she mouthed as Harry led her away very slowly.

The prefect stopped a few feet from them and looked around nervously. After a moment he seemed to relax and walked back to the double doors. He picked up his cigarette and started puffing on it once more, and after a while, even started humming some slow tune.

Harry looked down at Cho who was still looking apologetic, but now there was a bit of fright mingled with the sorry expression. Sensing that it would be okay, Harry gave her a quick smile, which regretted this almost at once.

A mischievous grin came over her lips and she took hold of Harry's hands, moving them to the small of her back. Then she placed her arms about his neck and gently pressed her body to his. Harry remembered the occasions in which he had witnessed this reckless side of Cho and knew this would be another one.

He couldn't believe Cho wanted to dance just now, but he supposed the humming prefect near by would not notice if they moved slowly enough. Besides, they could not enter through the front doors unnoticed so long as he was around.

So they danced, slowly and very quietly, underneath the moonlit sky, as well as the invisibility cloak. They were enjoying themselves so much, wondering what each other was thinking, that they hadn't even noticed when the prefect had set off. They simply realized that he was quite some distance away by the time they caught sight of him.

Harry wasn't sure it was a good idea when Cho removed his father's old cloak and tucked it away safely into his bag, but then she took his hand and they started towards her dormitory, and he decided not to argue the point.

It felt quite nice to Harry to be walking hand in hand with Cho Chang, even if, or perhaps because, it was very late at night. But the moment they reached a familiar corridor that led to Ravenclaw House, Harry's heart seemed to skip a beat and he noticed the shadow that Parvati had once pushed him into.

Cho stopped and squeezed his hand, and for one wild second Harry thought she could read his mind, but when he looked at her, she was not looking at him or the shadow filled wall. Cho was watching a torch-lit corner very intently. "Listen," she whispered.

Then Harry heard the footsteps as well, but before he could cast around for a spot to hide, Cho spotted the dark shadow Harry would rather have avoided and pulled him in just as two patrolling prefects rounded the corner.

It was Ron and Hermione, making their rounds hand in hand. Surprisingly Harry was not upset at this, but he knew that it was because he actually missed them. He felt Cho's eyes on him and flashed her a grin. Cho returned a smile and they both looked back at Ron and Hermione.

"They make a cute couple," Harry said, nodding approvingly. "They do," Cho agreed, turning playfully back to him, "But I can think of a cuter couple." Harry had been feeling more and more comfortable with Cho as the night went on, but at these words he felt himself go red.

They stepped out of the shadow and watched the two prefects disappear behind another corridor. Harry had been watching Hermione; thinking about her image in the Mirror of Erised, and suddenly knew what he should do. "Would you mind if I met you at Madam Puddifoot's tomorrow," he asked Cho, "I think it's time I made things right.

"Alright," she said, wrapping her slender arms around one of his and giving it another affectionate squeeze. As had been the case for most of their journey, Harry felt an urge to kiss her again and suddenly recalled the bitter feeling he had had when Hermione pointed out how he never "started it". "It's not like I'm scared or anything... I just haven't tried, that's all..."

Harry couldn't help but grin as he started leading Cho back into the shadow. "What are you doing?" asked Cho, allowing herself to be led backwards, although a bit hesitantly. "I'm not really that kind of girl, you know..." "I know that... I just wanted to kiss you good night, that's all," he said innocently, "trust me." Then Cho grinned slyly, and Harry knew that this shadow would never remind him of Parvati again.

; )

Harry awoke the following morning to an empty dormitory and immediately dressed for breakfast. On his way to the owlry, he thought about what he would say to Hermione and wondered vaguely what Ron would think about it.

Because he was still feeling a bit giddy about his reconciliation with Cho, he decided he would surprise Hermione and Ron with the news once he got them to Madam Puddifoot's, if he managed this, that is. Harry also thought of surprising Cho by sending her a small token.

When he reached the owlry, he called down one of the school owls, a brown, and attached the replica Firebolt Tonks had given him last Christmas to one of its legs. He couldn't use his own snowy owl because it would be obvious who the present had come from even before it was opened.

After the owl had left, Harry took a look around for Hedwig, hoping she would not be mad with him, as she had been one occasion in which he used a school owl instead of her to send a message to Sirius. He guessed she had not yet returned from the night's hunting because she was nowhere in sight.

Some ten minutes later Harry was to be found readying himself to enter the Great Hall. With a deep breath he wished himself luck and then entered. As he approached the Gryffindor table however, Harry could not help but look quickly over at the Ravenclaws and, as easy as it usually was for him to spot Cho in a crowd, it seemed even easier this morning.

She glanced at him just as he spotted her and gave him a quick wink that put a grin on his face. Harry thought of the small gift he had just sent her and had to turn away to hide his anticipation. Instead, Harry continued down the Gryffindor table and concentrated on finding his old friends.

And there they were; Ron and Hermione, sitting together about halfway down the table and trying, in Harry's opinion, to look as though they were still just friends; there was more room between them than usually. Harry stopped just behind them.

"How was patrol duty?" he asked casually. "Fine," Ron said, surprised, although Hermione did not move; on the contrary, she seemed to have frozen. He smiled at Ron, rather indifferently, and Ron gave him an anxious nod, as though he had been waiting for this.

"Look Hermione," Harry began, quite clearly, "I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't mean any of it. I was really stupid." Still, Hermione did not move. Harry had a feeling she would have to see his face in order to know just how sorry he really was, so he took a seat beside her, straddling the bench so he could face her directly and half-expecting her to scoot away from him, but still, she did not move.

"Hermione," he said softly, "please look at me." At first Hermione did nothing, but then she turned very slowly to him, her expression detached, as though she really did not want to hear what he had to say. But Harry noticed that she was fighting back tears and knew there was some hope of getting through to her.

"Listen," he said, resisting the urge to take hold of her hand, "I know how much you mean to me, even if you don't. You're one of my best friends, and... I miss you." Hermione closed her eyes and two great tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Oh, it's alright," she squeaked, wiping her face with a sleeve. "I shouldn't have... I mean—" but Harry interrupted, "You meant well Hermione... I know that now." She looked at him hopefully. "I was a git," he admitted, shaking his head in self-disgust. "I'm really, really sorry. You have to believe me."

Hermione nodded at him and half-sobbed, half-smiled, and Harry smiled back. Her eyes told him all he needed to know; she had forgiven him. Harry outstretched his arms to give her a hug, and Hermione hugged him back. Further down the Ravenclaw table, Harry caught sight of Cho, who grinned.

"So," Harry said to Ron, after he and Hermione had let go of each other, "Hogsmeade today." "Yeah," said Ron, looking quickly at Hermione. "Harry," she began slowly, "We have to tell you some—" "You know," Harry said loudly, cutting her off, "I reckon Ginny's right... you two do look good together."

The pair of them shared a surprised look and then goggled at him. "How did you know," asked Hermione quietly. "Yeah..." Ron joined in, "we haven't told anyone yet." Harry smirked. "I saw you two at Hagrid's," he said casually.

Ron and Hermione stared at one another once more. "I guessed you go there," he told Hermione, and then he gave Ron a suggestive look, "but when I looked into the pumpkin patch..." he left it hanging.

Comprehension dawned on the couple and then they shared a grin, which made Harry want to laugh. "Hagrid was looking for all three of us," Ron said suddenly, "but he found me first, and you'll never believe—" but then Ron stopped himself and look around casually.

"We'll tell you at Hogsmeade," Hermione half-whispered. "Right," Ron agreed, "no one else should hear this." "Okay, I know just where to go, then," Harry said, pulling a bowl of cereal towards him and reaching for the milk jug. "I've got loads to tell you two."

A few minutes later the sudden sounds of screeching and fluttering announced the arrival of the morning post. Harry turned his head upward, as though looking for Hedwig, but out of the corner of his eyes, watched Cho instead.

As expected, when the owl landed in front of her, she looked doubtfully at it. The brown walked right up to her and she finally reached out for the parcel. Cho untied the package, unwrapped it carefully, and then stared at the miniature Firebolt. A smug smirk appeared upon her face.

Harry smiled, and then, "Ouch!" Hedwig had nipped at his finger and was now trying to deliver the small envelope attached to her leg. "What's that?" asked Ron. "Dunno," Harry said, relieving Hedwig of the small letter and offering her a piece of toast.

The envelope was actually an elaborately folded piece of parchment, and at first Harry did not see anything else. But then he looked at it properly and his heart gave a jolt. There, in the middle of the parchment was a drawing of a golden snitch with the intertwining letters H and X artfully etched into the background.

"Well we know who the H is," said Ron, "but who'd you reckon the X is?" Harry shrugged, though he knew perfectly well who sent it to him. He carefully selected his words. "I haven't been introduced to anyone whose name started with that letter," he said, hopeful he'd remember to ask Cho about the X some time.

; )

When they reached the high street at Hogsmeade, Harry immediately started off towards Madam Puddifoots. "You'll never guess who I ran into last night," he told them. "Ginny," Hermione guessed, and Ron made a sour face. "Was she on patrol by herself," Ron half-demanded.

"Dunno," Harry answered truthfully, "but Belatrix wasn't alone." Harry heard them stop in their tracks. "She was in the Forbidden Forest with a couple of Dementors," he continued, turning to give them a serious look. "You're not joking, are you," asked Ron nervously.

Harry shook his head gravely and, for the rest of the journey, did all the talking while his two best friends listened in numb disbelief. During the explanation Harry purposely left out Cho's involvement, which raised a few questions from Hermione that Harry tactically ignored by pretending not to hear them.

Ron and Hermione did not notice the name of the little café they were entering because they had begun to ask for more details about what had happened. Ron was just about to ask Harry another question when he froze, noticing that every single table was composed of couples, most of whom were kissing.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Harry and Ron's ears started turning red. "Ah, is there some reason you brought us here?" Hermione asked suspiciously. Harry however, merely scanned the café and saw Cho seated at a half-hidden table for four with her back to them. "Come on," Harry said, starting towards her.

"Can we sit here," he asked when they had reached the table, and Cho turned around. The looks on Ron and Hermione's faces were well worth the effort it took for Harry to not have mentioned Cho this whole time. He took a seat and, thoroughly enjoying the moment, kissed her on the cheek as she took hold of his hand.

"Hullo Hermione, Ronald," Cho said, smiling at the pair of them. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, then at Harry, and then back at Cho. "You two made up, then," Ron said, as though this could not be more obvious. Harry and Cho shared a grin.

"Hang on," Hermione said suddenly, a small smile playing on her lips. "Were you two together last night?" Again, Harry and Cho grinned at each other. Hermione took a seat and tugged on Ron's sleeve rather hard, practically pulling him into the last seat. "So can we get the whole story, then?" Hermione asked Cho, "Harry seems to have left you out of it."

Unnoticed by the overly affectionate couples around them, they spent the next half-hour quietly talking about the fresh attempt on Harry's life, as well as the return of Buckbeak the Hippogriff to the Forbidden Forrest and to Hagrid's care.

"So, you saw our old car, then," Ron asked, grinning. Harry grinned back. "She would've had us," Cho said, "that car came just in time." "Yeah," Harry laughed, "smacked right into her. She was out of it for bit." Ron grinned, "I guess she got... tired." They all broke into laughter and several kissing couples stopped and stared at them, some looking put out.

With a slightly embarrassed sort of look, Cho and Hermione glanced at Harry and Ron and then at each other. "Bathroom?" Hermione suggested, rising from her seat. "Yes," Cho agreed, standing up, "It's right this way." Harry watched them walking off, linked by the arms, as though they had been friends for quite some time. "It's too bad about your broom," Hermione was saying to Cho. "We were just glad she flew off," he heard Cho say.

Harry turned to Ron, expecting to see the same expression on his best friend's face as had appeared on his own; that of bewilderment. But Ron merely looked bored and drummed his finders on the table. "You'd think they were mates," he said to Ron; he had a feeling that Ron knew more about it than he did. "Oh," Ron said suddenly, "they've been... for a while now."

"What," Harry said, surprised. "Yeah. Remember that duel Hermione told us she interrupted—between a Ravenclaw and a Slytherin? Well it was actually Pansy and Millicent who tried to ambush Hermione, but Cho turned up and ah, evened the odds." Ron had an odd expression on his face that Harry could not read.

"When McGonagall turned up, Hermione was terrified—thought she'd loose her badge. But Cho lied right to McGonagall's face—told her she was dueling with Millicent and that Hermione had just stopped 'em. Pansy played along; probably was just as scared as Hermione. Cho and pug-face got detention for a week, but her and Hermione have been mates ever since."

Harry remembered the time he had noticed something pass between Hermione and Cho at the Gryffindor ball. So that's what that was, he thought. Then he recalled a talk with Hermione where she told him to "leave Cho out of it." She didn't want anyone to say anything bad about her.

"So," Ron said, a bit airily, "you don't think she's gonna ah, act like she did last term?" Harry looked around to make sure the couples around them were still preoccupied. "Remember that mirror back in our first year," Harry asked in barely a whisper. Ron nodded.

"Well, I managed to make it come to the DA room, only I left the door unlocked by accident." Ron's eyes went wide. "Then, Cho came in, but not before I got back under my dad's cloak. It turns out that Cho's deepest desire—" Ron clapped his hands to his ears. "Wait, do I wanna hear this" he said in a pained whispered.

Harry laughed. "Anyway," he continued, "her deepest desire was to say good-bye to Cedric, and to apologize to me. She sort of even asked the mirror if I still fancied her." For a moment, Ron nodded approvingly, but then he gave Harry a sidelong look. "So," he said, in that same airy voice, "you and Cho. I thought ah, you and Parvati."

Harry immediately panicked and let loose the first retort that came to mind. "What about you and Padma," he said in a high pitched whisper, and it was Ron's turn to panic. "That—it was—I sort of just—went along with it," he sputtered.

"Thought she could keep a secret," Harry muttered, not really registering what Ron was going on about. "Yeah," Ron agreed, his face looking glum. "That's what she said to me, too." Harry's mind froze. Had Ron just admitted that Parvati Patil kissed him as well?

"You mean," Harry chocked, "You... and... Parvati?!" Ron shook his head. "Padma," he corrected. Harry's mind sped back into action, much like it had when he mistook Hermione's meaning on the morning after the ball. "Padma," he said dully, looking towards the bathrooms for a sign of the girls.

"Hang on," said Ron, comprehension dawning on his face. He looked at Harry critically, rising very slowly from his seat. "You kissed her, didn't you," he said, triumphantly. "You kissed her sister," Harry fired back, smirking.

Ron's demeanor changed almost instantly, his face turning pale. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Right," he said, after a moment, "I won't tell if you don't." He was half-pleading. "Deal," Harry grinned, and a small laugh escaped Ron's lips.

"You think we should sign a jinx or something," Harry joked, and Ron considered this for a moment. "Nah, I recon those two can do worse things to us," he said, "and that's enough to keep me quiet." Harry gave it some further thought. "Maybe," he began slowly, still thinking, "Maybe they wouldn't be all that upset?"

A short silence followed in which the pair of them stared at each other, considering this possibility. Then, at the exact same moment, Harry and Ron burst into tearful and uncontrollable laughter. The whole café turned as one to survey the two madmen and threw them reproachful looks. Harry hadn't laughed this hard in such a long time, and by the looks of it, neither had Ron.


	9. Gestalt

Chapter 9: Gestalt

Harry, Cho, Hermione and Ron returned to Hogwarts right before lunch that day because they had no real reason to hang around the wizarding village, and also because Cho and Hermione thought it would be really nice if just the four of them had lunch by the lake.

Harry and Ron put up a brief objection as to why they should at least go to The Three Broomsticks for some butterbeer, but the girls merely insisted, which ended the discussion. Harry however, thought he knew the real reason behind this seemingly natural idea.

He was certain that the topic of his safety had come up while Cho and Hermione were in the bathroom and immediately saw it for what it was; a clever way of getting him back to the school. But Harry was keen on spending some time with Cho and his reunited friends and did not argue the point.

Perhaps more even then getting reacquainted with Ron and Hermione, Harry was curious to see how his two best friends were actually like as a couple. Harry had sometimes imagined them as a younger version of Arthur and Molly Weasley; usually in various stages of one debate or another.

But he was pretty sure that, unlike Mr. Weasley, Ron argued with Hermione more to show his interest in her, rather than any real conviction to his opinion. Hermione on the other hand, was very much like Mrs. Weasley in that her point of view stemmed from her belief in what was the proper and moral thing to do.

Still, Harry had a feeling that their sudden closeness must have pushed some of the childishness from their relationship, much like it had with him and Cho. So it came as something of a shock to Harry to learn that he was mistaken about this.

Hermione and Ron's bickering, it transpired, had not changed much at all. They had, if possible, found more things to debate, as well as more ways to debate them. Despite this however, it could not be plainer to Harry that his two best friends were closer than they ever were before, and to think of how everything seemed to have worked out, put a smile on his face.

They spent the whole of the afternoon laying around and talking about anything and everything from alchemy to quidditch. Cho and Hermione talked at length about ancient runes, while Ron divided his lighthearted comments between them. After a relaxing day, they returned to their respective dormitories to get cleaned up for dinner.

Harry did not really want to dine in the Great Hall this evening, not because he had grown accustomed to taking his meals outdoors, but because he had put off telling Dumbledore about Bellatrix Lestrange's attack and dreaded the reproachful look he was sure would line his headmaster's kind old face once he had told him.

But dinner proved to be a pleasant affair. Just after dessert materialized onto the four great house tables, Professor Dumbledore announced that there would be another ball, co-hosted by Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, to be held next Friday in the Great Hall.

Immediately Harry remembered their Gryffindor ball and thought it might be fun. Then he realized that he would have no responsibilities at all to do with this event and knew it would be a great deal of fun. He looked up from the custard tart he'd been enjoying and smiled at Ron and Hermione, who were already grinning at him.

Cho approached Harry after dessert and took hold of his hand. "Are you ready," she asked pleasantly. "I suppose so," Harry said, lazily. He could no longer put off telling Professor Dumbledore about the attack and had decided that he would do so with Cho right after dinner.

"We'll see you later, then" said Hermione, and she and Ron walked off. "Are you sure I should come with you?" Cho asked doubtfully, "You could leave my part out of it again... can't you?" Harry grinned. "It'll be okay, you'll see," he reassured her, and much to Harry's relief, when they reached their headmaster at the staff table, he gave them a very kind smile.

"Professor, we have to tell you something important," said Harry, and Cho squeezed his hand. "I was just about to take a little after-dinner stroll," Dumbledore said, his twinkling eyes moving from Harry to Cho, "Perhaps you two should accompany me. I find that taking a relaxing walk in the company of a couple, of students that is, to be much more enjoyable." Harry felt himself go red, and noticed Cho do the same.

"Would you like me to come as well," squeaked tiny little Professor Flitwick, who had appeared at Dumbledore's side and was now eyeing Cho with something like concern. The Headmaster also looked at Cho, but contrary to the look of concern from their charms teacher, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with delight.

"I don't think that will be necessary," said Dumbledore, grinning at Cho. "Very well Headmaster," said Professor Flitwick, and then he turned to his Ravenclaw student. "Good to see you in better spirits my dear Miss Chang." He gave her a smile, and Cho smiled back, then she shared a grin with Harry.

The three of them walked around the third floor corridor as Harry and Cho told Professor Dumbledore all about the fresh attempt on Harry's life. In the end Dumbledore was very pleased with how they had handled themselves and merely asked that they return to the castle before sunset each day.

Harry and Cho spent the following week hand in hand, walking each other to lessons, often resulting in either one or the other turning up late for class. They had also started sitting alone together at meals, taking up a small open space at whichever one of their house tables provided. This however, did not last very long.

Tuesday dinner Gabrielle and Mark began sitting with them. Hermione and Ron joined them for breakfast Wednesday morning, followed by Neville and Luna at lunchtime. Finally, at dinner, Ginny and Michael sat down and announced that Cho would be the starting seeker for the first match of the season; Ravenclaw versus Slytherin.

Ending the day at the library with Cho, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville became another new trend. Ginny and Luna studied for their OWLs, though exams were not for several months, while Hermione and Cho poured over volumes of ancient runes which, aside from being one of Hermione's favorite subjects, turned out to be one of Cho's fortes.

Harry, Ron, and Neville did their homework there so they could have easy access to their assignment answers through excellent sources; namely Hermione and Cho. Even Mark and Gabrielle joined their unique little study group, although, much to Cho's dismay, they wrote little notes to each other almost the entire time.

Before the end of lunch on Thursday, Harry and Cho found a peaceful courtyard spot somewhere in between their next classes to enjoy the day's sunshine before the strong October winds arrived to announce the impending winter.

"Are you sure you don't wanna go someplace warmer," Harry asked Cho. The spot he had picked out did not appear as breezy as it actually turned out to be. Cho merely looked up from between his arms and smiled softly. "I'm fine right here," she said, closing her eyes. "Anyway, I like the breeze. It feels like I'm on a broom."

Harry knew what she was talking about because he felt the same way, and he marveled at how much the girl in his arms had changed from just a year ago. Then, as he was thinking how nice it would be to just carry on this way until he graduated, he suddenly realized that Cho would not be here for his final year and immediately felt a pang of regret.

Something of Harry's disappointment must have emanated through his embrace because Cho suddenly looked up at him. "Harry," she said with some concern, "is something the matter?" Harry realized at once that his time would be better spent making the most of this year with Cho rather than dwelling on next one without her.

"You've changed quite a bit," he said, trying not to sound at all put out. "So have you," answered Cho, straightening up, "I remember my fifth year—your forth; you looked so much younger then, and that was just two years ago." "I haven't changed as much as Ron has," Harry pointed out, "He's a head taller than me now."

Then he laughed. "But I guess you know how that feels," he joked. Cho took hold of his arm lovingly then pinched it hard, rather like a mother would to a misbehaving child. "Ouch!" Harry jumped and rubbed at the spot she had mortally wounded. "Very funny, dear," she smirked.

Cho reached for his face and he half flinched, but she merely caressed it very tenderly, looking deeply at it, as though she were a painter studying her subject. "Anyway," she said, and now there was a hint of sadness in her voice, "that's not really what I meant. You look older now; like you've been forced to grow up."

Harry suddenly remembered the weight of the prophesy he shared with Voldermort, which he had been carrying for a few months now, and knew it must somehow show on his face. "I remember the same thing happened to my brother Sai," Cho continued, "you met him, remember?"

Harry nodded. "You two are very close, huh?" Cho grinned. "He taught me how to fly, and how to play seeker." An airy laugh escaped her lips. "When I would practice dodging, he'd hell 'xiao xin', which means 'watch out', and I would half-jump off my broom."

Harry smiled at her, partially because he found the story quite amusing, but more so because of the vision he had just had; of him yelling 'xiao xin' and Cho jumping at the sound of it. He filed the memory somewhere in the back of his mind for just such an occasion.

Cho tugged at her necklace until her pendant emerged from the front of her robes. She examined it with a smug smile on her delicate lips. "He gave me this for my twelfth birthday, so we could always find each other," she explained, "He left his pendant in that cloak I gave you. I decided Gabrielle could use it for now."

Harry thought of his relationship with Tonks. Much of his behavior and outlook now were influenced in some small way by the late night conversations they had shared together; though Harry knew perfectly well that his intimate side was definitely a direct result of those talks.

"It's good you had someone older to go to for advice," he said, his mind still on Tonks. Cho looked away. "Oh... well, it wasn't always that way," she said, rather evasively. "When we were younger my brother and I didn't really get along. We literally hated each other, if you can imagine."

Harry quickly thought of Ron and Percy. "But then he saw a dark wizard murder a whole room full of defenseless muggles, and he had to testify as a witness, and he was terrified. I remember thinking he'd aged about ten years. So I did what I could for him—fix him meals, clean his room; things like that. Mostly I just listened to him go on about what he was feeling."

"In the end, he managed to send the coward to Azkaban, and I'll never forget how he thanked me. He said that if it wasn't for me, he might have killed himself." Harry suddenly thought of Hermione and how she alone had helped him through the first part of his forth year, and almost didn't notice the tear that had run down the side of Cho's face.

Looking slightly embarrassed, Cho quickly wiped her cheek and gave him a soft smile. "We've been very close ever since." Harry could not think of anything comforting to say so he took hold of her hands. "Anyway," she said, a little breathlessly, "I just wish I could've been there for you, too."

Harry suddenly felt choked up, but he did not want this to show and immediately thought of something funny to say. "Well, it's not too late," he declared, and she gave him a puzzled look. "I still have a bit more growing up to do." Cho grinned. "Obviously," she joked.

They spent the remaining minutes of lunch quietly sitting together until it was time to head to class. "I'll see you at dinner," Harry said as he gave Cho a hug. "Okay," Cho answered, hugging him as tightly as she could. Harry was watching her walking off when he suddenly felt the need to say something. "Cho," he called after her, and she stopped to look back at him.

"I wish you could've been there too," he said very sincerely, "It would've made things easier... but at least you're here now." Cho's eyes brightened, then she beamed and ran towards him, catching him in another bone-breaking hug. She kissed him very warmly, very tenderly, and gave him one last smile before she hurried off again.

For the rest of the day Harry struggled with what he was going to do for Cho. He really wanted to open up more to her now, but he wasn't quite sure how to go about doing so. He briefly thought about revealing the prophesy he shared with Voldermort, but then remembered that he hadn't even shared that with his two best friends yet.

Friday morning was greeted by a chilly breeze, although there was so much fanfare about tonight's ball that it passed unmentioned, and the main topic of conversation at breakfast, for the girls at least, was what everyone would be wearing at tonight's ball.

During breakfast many smug-looking Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws approached Harry and his friends and asked him specifically if he would be coming tonight. Harry suspected that the only reason they wanted him there, was so he could see how much better their ball was compared to Gryffindor's.

"Famous Harry Potter," Ron teased, and there were a few sniggers. But Harry was busy trying to read Cho's expression, which was a mixture of thought and regret. "My Harry," she smiled ruefully, "sometimes, I really wish you weren't famous." "Me too," Harry agreed wholeheartedly.

Harry spent the first lesson thinking hard about how he could be more open with Cho. His inattention was rewarded with extra homework, as well as a solution to his problem. Since he didn't really trust himself to explain things correctly, his feelings especially, he decided to show his experiences to Cho in hopes that she could draw the proper conclusions herself.

Just before the end of dinner, Hermione and Ron asked Harry what tonight's plan was. "Well, I was going to take Cho on a little stroll before we actually turned up at the ball," he said, looking at Cho, who raised an eyebrow. "Sound's like fun," she said, sounding pleasantly surprised. Ron and Hermione giggled.

"Well, I just thought of it," Harry said, evasively. "You don't mind, do you," he asked. "Of course not," Cho grinned, "It sounds wonderful, so long as..." She paused and turned to Luna. "Would you look after Gabrielle for me, until I get there, that is?" "Certainly," answered Luna.

Because Harry wanted to surprise her, he told Cho to meet him at the bottom of the marble staircase, even though it meant having to go up to Gryffindor tower to change and then come back down to the first floor to meet Cho, only to go back up to the seventh floor and the Room of Requirement.

Harry thought he'd be early to meet Cho at the base of the stairs so that he could have some more time to think about what he was going to show her. But when he reached the first floor, Cho was already there waiting for him. Even though this meant he would not have that extra time to think, knowing she was anxious to see him put a smile on face.

When she caught sight of him, she immediately stood up to meet him. Harry hadn't seen Cho dolled up in such a long time that he felt taken aback to he see her looking so pretty, and did not notice the flower she was holding until she had slipped it down a hole in the lapel of the cloak she had given him a month ago.

"There," she said, stepping back to admire the overall affect of the red flower on his dark clothes. "You look great," Harry said in a half-whisper. "So do you, my Harry," she said, wrapping her arms around one of his the way she always did.

They only took a few steps up the marble staircase before they encountered Mark, who quickly hid a rose behind his back and greeted them, sounding rather guilty of something. "Oh, Harry, I was just looking for you," he said nervously. Mark pulled out Harry's sneakoscope from a pocket and handed it to him, all the while avoiding looking up at Cho.

"Did it work out, then," Harry asked the nervous boy. "Oh yes. It really worked," Mark said, smiling weakly. "I'm happy to hear it," said Harry, noticing the even look Cho was giving him. "Well, we'll see you at the ball, then," said Harry, and he led Cho past the little first-year, hoping she would not comment.

"Can't you give him a break?" he asked Cho, when they had climbed passed the second floor. "I just did," Cho answered coolly, "I didn't say anything, did I?" "You could be nicer to him, you know, for me." There was a moment of silence in which Cho considered his request. "Fine. For you, then. But I still think they're a bit young."

"That's my girl," Harry said boldly, and he saw her roll her eyes, although he also noticed her go pink. "Did I tell you I dove down these stairs before?" Harry asked, indicating the side of the grand stairs. "You did?" asked Cho. "With my Firebolt, that same day you rode it," he said truthfully. "I'll have to try it sometime," Cho said eagerly.

Harry had a small surprise planned that involved stopping off at the forth floor classroom that not too long ago served as Gryffindor's ballroom. Colin Creevey was waiting there with his camera. They spent the next half-hour taking pictures by the great windows, as well as the Hogwarts banner they had used for the ball.

This little surprise served two purposes. Harry wanted some of his own pictures of, as well as with, Cho to keep for himself when the year was done. But he also wanted to give the rest of the students and teachers time to get down to the Great Hall so he could be sure they would not be disturbed.

When they finally reached the seventh floor, Harry told Cho to keep her eyes shut while he led her to the corridor with the enormous tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and his would-be ballet trolls. Cho simply buried her face in his shoulder while they walked.

Harry left Cho at one end of the corridor, her eyes still shut tightly, and thrice walked passed the blank stretch of wall, thinking hard about Dumbledore's pensive. Harry quickly opened the highly polished door that had appeared after his third pass and steered Cho into the dimly lit room where a plain yet large desk was centered and upon which sat the familiar shallow, rune encircled stone basin.

"Can I open them yet," asked Cho excitedly, as Harry moved her before the desk. "Just a couple more steps," said Harry playfully. When Cho was in position, Harry placed his hands on her shoulders and whispered, "Open your eyes." "The DA room," she said excitedly, "I knew it." Then she spotted the pensive and eagerly bent over to examine the runes. "Is this... a pensive," she asked uncertainly.

Numbly surprised Harry nodded. He had gone as far as to prepare a little explanation for Cho about this particular device, but now realized that he had wasted his time. Feeling slightly crestfallen he removed his cloak and tossed it onto the desk.

"I thought you might... understand me a bit better if I showed you some of my, ah... private memories," said Harry, feeling himself going red and trying to sound casual. He shrugged and pulled out his wand while Cho stared at him. "Oh, my Harry," said Cho, flinging her arms around him and making him feel even hotter under the collar.

Just then a muffled sort of whistling echoed lightly throughout the room. The sound was coming from the desk, and Harry immediately suspected what it was. They heard the door behind them open and turned around to see Gabrielle walking in, an odd sort of expression on her face.

"Gabrielle?" Cho began, but then she continued in French, and Harry guessed she was asking her what she was doing up here. He was sure he heard Mark's name and suddenly felt as though he were eavesdropping. Harry turned his attention back to the table and lifted his cloak, thinking he would busy himself by silencing his pocket sneakoscope.

It was acting up again, just as it had done before. But as Harry reached for the whirling spindle, something clicked in his brain, and he realized that all the times he and Ron had thought it to be malfunctioning could have been a mistake because Scabbers had always been around. But why then was it acting up now?

"I 'ave been looking all ovur ze casell for you," said Gabrielle. "Why didn't you just use your pendant?" asked Cho, nonplussed. Harry's mind was racing and he could tell by the sound of her voice that Cho was just a few feet from Gabrielle now. "Xiao xin," said Harry, almost calmly, and Cho looked back over her shoulder at him. Then he shouted it. "XIAO XIN!"

Cho dove aside just as Harry pointed his wand and yelled, "FLAPENDO!" Gabrielle was blasted back and her very image blurred. But as she flew though the doorway, the form of Bellatrix came into focus and then landed in a heap. From the ground where she lay, Cho drew her wand and waved it all in one motion, making the door slam shut.

"Colloportus," followed Harry, and then it made an odd squelching sound. Cho cast another spell at the door and it very faintly began to glow. Harry had no sooner helped Cho to her feet when—CRASH! The door creaked and dust spewed out from its edges. Harry and Cho scanned the room quickly. CRASH! The door shuddered again, throwing up more dust.

Harry grabbed Cho's hand, "C'mon!" he said, leading her back towards the desk. If they were going to make a stand, Harry thought they had better have some cover, but as they reached the desk, his eyes locked onto the pensive and he suddenly had another idea.

He hurriedly placed the tip of his wand to his temple and drew out a silvery strand of thought. He deposited it into the pensive and gave it a quick swirl. The door creaked ominously again behind another thud and, wasting no time, Harry took hold of Cho's hand and plunged both his and hers into the basin.

The room lurched and Harry suddenly felt himself falling, tumbling in slow-motion. Cho pulled him towards her and held very tightly to him as they continued to descend. After a moment their feet touched down in what was unmistakably the school's first floor corridor just inside the courtyard.

"Are you okay," Harry asked Cho. "Yes," she said, casting a nervous look around. "If we're lucky somebody heard her having a go at that door," said Harry, looking in the direction of the Great Hall. He thought of running that way but then realized the idiocy behind this impulse.

"How did you know," asked Cho, obviously referring to Bellatrix Lestrange's disguise. "The sneakoscope for one, that was that whistling," Harry said, "but then you asked about the pendant and I fig—" but then Cho suddenly gasped, and her eyes went very wide. "She has Gabrielle!"

At these words Harry felt a chill run down his spine, and he suddenly could not feel his heart pounding anymore. "Maybe she only has something of hers," Harry reasoned, remembering that all Bellatrix would have needed for polyjuice was a bit of her hair.

"She was using effingo runes," said Cho, her voice shaking with dread. "That's why her true form showed after she was knocked back. She must have Gabrielle tied up, to keep her within the runes." Cho gave Harry a frightened, tearful look and he pulled her into a tight embrace.

"We'll find her," he said to Cho, but even more so to himself. A numb sort of anger was surging through him now. Why had Bellatrix taken Gabrielle of all people? But then he realized the answer immediately. "It's because of me," said Harry, through gritted teeth.

Cho pulled away from him and he half-expected her to start berating him. It wouldn't have even surprised him if she slapped him across the face. He was to blame for this; for any pain Gabrielle was being put through, and it would be his fault if she died. But Cho was not looking at him. She was watching Luna Lovegood picking her things up from off the floor.

Harry had pulled out the only memory he'd ever added to the pensive before; the new prediction he had shown to Dumbledore. He did not intend to hide this from Cho, but he certainly did not think it was appropriate just now. After all, it was Gabrielle's life at stake, not his, and a prediction about him would do her no good.

But there was nothing he could do. Harry was almost certain that Bellatrix had gotten through the door by now, but he couldn't be sure that she had already left. A moment later they watched the glittering, bespectacled form of Professor Trelawney appear.

Cho was riveted to the conversation that played out between Harry and Professor Trelawney, and after its conclusion Cho turned slowly to Harry, a look of deepest shock and horror on her face. "The dark lord's favor... that's Bellatrix Lestrange isn't it?" she demanded.

Harry nodded, but before he could say anything Cho gasped again, "Gabrielle! We have to find her!" "Let's go, then," answered Harry. He had never exited the pensive on his own before but he thought he had a good idea of how it worked.

Harry concentrated hard on stopping the memory; envisioning his swirling thought coming to a halt, and then they suddenly began to rise, slowly at first, speeding up gradually until he felt his feet make contact with the floor, as though he had just hopped out of bed.

The first thing that Harry saw was the highly polished door standing open, several dents and burns pock-marking its front. Bellatrix had gotten through, but it looked as though Harry's idea had worked. She was nowhere to be seen.

They exited very cautiously, their wands at the ready, prepared for some sort of attack, but the corridor stood dark and empty. Harry cast one last look at Dumbledore's pensive, muttered a soft "I'm sorry," as though practicing for his headmaster, and closed the door. A moment later the door vanished.

Cho extracted her pendant and, with a weary look at Harry, as though she had done this far too many times, clutched it. Harry doubted however, that she had ever held it so tightly before. "She's a few floors down," she said.

They reached the grand staircase and paused to draw breath; they had run the entire length between the DA room and the stairs. Then they rushed down two floors, taking several marble steps at a time, and on the fifth floor Cho reached for her pendant once more. She merely glanced downward and they were off again.

Before they reached the third floor landing, Cho slowed to a stop, her fist held up to her chest. Harry looked back at her and she nodded the answer to his unasked question. Gabrielle was somewhere on this floor. Then, quite suddenly, Harry heard a voice in the back of his mind.

"It's because of me," it said, and Harry's anger flared once more, but this time there was fear mingled in with the rage; fear of what might happen to, not only Gabrielle, but to Cho as well. Harry knew his chances against Bellatrix were slim, and that they were far better with Cho at his side, but the possibility that both Gabrielle and Cho could die was something he could not fathom.

"Go tell Dumbledore," he told her. He turned quickly and, hoping to avoid a discussion, made to run. But before he had even finished turning around, Cho's hand seized his arm and, with surprising strength, jerked him around again. She looked both dejected and incredulous.

"Look," said Harry quickly, before Cho could open her mouth, "If we both go and fail, there won't be anyone to stop her from killing Gabrielle!" "I heard that prediction!" Cho insisted, "This trap is meant for you." Cho's eyes were suddenly over-bright, but her jaw was set.

"That's why I have to go—not why you have to," said Harry grimly. "You can't go after her by yourself—I won't let you!" Cho demanded, tears spilling down her cheeks. Harry felt his anger abate, to be replaced by a feeling of deepest sorrow. He had a feeling he would never see her again.

Harry closed his eyes to soothe the sudden burning he felt in them. "Go," he whispered. He heard her sob and looked at her again. Harry did not know until he saw Cho's face that it was possible to be tearfully afraid and hatefully furious at the same time.

Finally, after a long, frustrated glare, Cho's eyes closed submissively and more tears fell. Then she nodded in silent defeat. "Wait," she said, as Harry turned to go. Cho tugged hard on her pendant and the chain around her neck snapped.

Harry reached out a hand to receive the charm, but Cho gave him something else as well. She kissed him dearly; an odd touch of her lips he had never felt before, as though she were saying goodbye. With what looked like an enormous effort on her part, she pushed herself away from him and fled.

It was with a heavy heart that Harry watched her run down the stairs, and he could clearly see her tears as they fell. Then he noticed the gentle pull of her pendant in his fist and he turned towards the dark third-floor corridor with renewed anger.

As quickly as possible, Harry crept along the unused part of the castle, hugging the wall of the corridor, empty but for a rat here and there. When he reached a particularly dark corridor, the gentle pull from Cho's pendant made him sure that Gabrielle was through a single door in the wall that stood open ominously.

Thief-like, Harry edged his way to the open door and looked in very cautiously. The small room beyond was empty but for a window and another open door. Harry guessed that this room was just an antechamber to the next. He crept inside, careful to keep out of the moonlight from the window, and crossed the small room.

The moment Harry looked though the doorway within, his heart stopped. There, unconscious and bound by rope to an old wooden chair, was Gabrielle. Visible around the base of the chair were odd lines that seemed to form an intricate symbol; the effingo rune Cho had suspected.

Then the little part-veela began to stir, moving her head slowly until she suddenly jerked it up. She cast widely around and then stared at the door. Her eye's locked onto Harry's and they went wide. She began to struggle with her bindings desperately and Harry suddenly tremble; but whether by fear or by rage, Harry did not know; he simply rushed into the room.

This chamber was twice as large as the previous one, and there was a lingering odor of burnt stone that seemed to be growing stronger. Gabrielle struggled harder, shaking her head violently. Then her eyes snapped onto something over Harry's shoulder. He turned around quickly and saw Bellatrix Lestrange standing in the doorway he had just come through.

She let out a soft cackle that still echoed throughout the empty, stone room. Harry raised his wand just as Bellatrix uttered something he could not make out. Strange symbols and lines flared to life on the floor around him, and he suddenly could not move. "_Do not struggle hero; you can not escape_," said Bellatrix triumphantly. He heard Gabrielle continue to thrash behind him, though he could not even turn his head to look her way.

She walked up to the rune on his right side and traced the innermost symbol with one slender, almost bony finger. Its glow changed from faint to dazzling red, and Harry felt his bones sear with pain. "_Ah_,_ long I have waited for this_," she said, walking behind him to the next symbol.

Harry felt something like a thousand invisible needles stab him from every direction. Harry tried to scream but nothing came out. "_My master gave me the honor of killing you_," she purred, appearing on his left side. Again she traced the symbol, and Harry's head felt as though it were about to explode.

She walked over to the symbol in front of him and she laughed again. "_Do not worry little baby Potter_, _your pain is almost to its climax, and then you will never feel pain again_." She knelt down to trace the last symbol in front of him, and he was almost glad. The pain was too much for him, and he half-wanted her to activate the last one to be done with it.

Then a small bell began to ring somewhere inside the room and Bellatrix immediately turned around and drew her wand. Harry looked passed the door into the antechamber and saw Cho come charging in, that same fiery glint in her eyes as in the Forbidden forest just a week ago.

"_You_," Bellatrix fumed, "_You can not give him solace now!_" Cho looked down in front of her and noticed something Harry did not see before; another rune. Bellatrix muttered something once again; some sort of spell that finished with the name, "_Cho Chang!_"

The rune symbol glowed bright blue, and Cho suddenly looked incredulous. "_Ah_," said Bellatrix softly, "_You know what this is, don't you? You know it will kill you if you try to enter_. _You can watch him die from there_." She laughed again and turned back to Harry. Bellatrix smiled a gloating smile and then bent down to trace the final symbol.

All Harry could do was gaze at a frozen Cho, who had a look of terror on her face. But then her eyes opened wide and she looked down at the rune that barred the doorway in front of her. Harry thought he knew what she was about to do. She was about to enter the room despite the symbol of death upon the floor. He tried to scream at her not to but again nothing came out.

Cho took a deep breath, gave one last look at the rune before her feet, and then stepped over it. The symbol flared to a bright white, but then just as suddenly, flickered back to a blue glow. Then Cho raised her wand and sent Bellatrix flying.

Before she hit the wall she had been hurled against however, she made an odd motion with her wand and she stopped in midair before landing softly on her feet. "_How_," she demanded of Cho, who fired another curse towards her.

Bellatrix waved her wand in a circular motion that produced a bright circle. Cho's curse hit the circle and bounced back at her. She just dove aside in time. Then Bellatrix shot a wave of purple flame towards her and she ducked behind Harry just as it reached them. The instant it hit the aura around Harry, it vanished with a flash.

The next thing Harry saw was something flying though the air, not at Cho, but towards the wall behind her. Cho took notice and suddenly ran towards it, as though she meant to catch up to the flying object. Then Harry suddenly realized that the object was Gabrielle, chair and all.

Cho waved her wand and Gabrielle slowed to a floating stop. Bellatrix reached Harry, a triumphant look on her face, and pointed her wand at Cho. But before she could cast her spell, she caught sight of Hermione, Ron, and Ginny running into the other room.

Bellatrix swore and then again made that same slashing motion with her wand, sending another wave of purple flame, this time towards the doorway. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny ducked behind the wall and immediately Bellatrix turned, traced the final symbol, and then ran away from the others, towards the only window in the barren room.

She grabbed Cho's broom from against the wall and jumped onto the window ledge. Then, as she was mounting the broom, it suddenly jerked itself out of her hands and she overbalanced and toppled out of the window.

Cho and the others rushed over to Harry, a look of horror and shock on their faces. Harry's head erupted with pain and he could not be sure exactly what was happening now. "They're death runes," said Hermione and, just like Cho, looked deathly pale, "We have to break them, but they might be to strong." "We have to try," demanded Cho.

Harry continued to scream inside, and there seemed to be a blinding light engulfing him until he could see only white. "We don't equal their strength," he heard Hermione's voice say. Then he heard Cho's voice, and felt oddly happy that hers would be the last one he'd ever hear. "Equal... Solace..." Cho was saying, and then Harry knew no more.

Harry floated on the edge of dreams for so long that he only realized he was awake when he finally felt the bed beneath him. His eyelids felt so heavy that he kept them shut and was only vaguely aware of an oddly comfortable weight covering his body.

Then he noticed his soft grip around something slender; or was it his hand in someone else's. Harry automatically reached over and found his glasses on the bedside table and put them on. Immediately he saw Cho napping in a chair beside him, slumped over and using his bed as her pillow. The cloak she had given him had been laid out over his blanket.

His body ached and he did not really want to move but still he brought Cho's hand to his chest, placing his other hand over it so that it was cradled between them. Cho stirred slowly and then, quite suddenly, jerked her head up to meet Harry's gaze.

There was in her expression, evidence of much sadness and worrying, but as her eyes began to fill with tears of joy, the softness and color seemed to return to every part of her face. "My Harry," she said, in barely a whisper. Cho looked as though she desperately wanted to fling her arms around him but thought better of it.

For a moment she merely stared at him, smiling. But then she looked over her shoulder and called out to the others. "He's awake everyone," she said, wiping her face. There were many hurried footsteps before the faces of Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Luna, and Gabrielle came into view. Harry looked at each in turn and felt somehow happier with each smiling face that gazed back at him.

"What happened," asked Harry, slowly sitting up so he could see everyone properly. "We were able to break the death runes," answered Cho. Harry thought back through the flashes of memory that seemed to be his only link to what had happened. "But... I heard you give up," he said. He turned to Hermione, "I heard you say you couldn't equal their strength."

"It was the prediction," Cho said, "the one in the pensive. I guessed what, or rather, who the four parts were. It was a gestalt." "And just in time too," added Ron, and he gave Cho a look of deepest admiration. Harry smiled. "Looks like I owe you," said Harry, glancing at Cho, Hermione, Ginny, and then Ron. But Ron frowned slightly.

"I didn't help," he said with obvious disappointment. "What," Harry asked, "But it was you, and Hermione, and Cho, and Ginny." He looked at each as he named them. "I saw all of you there," he insisted. "I was there, mate," Ron agreed, "but it was Gabrielle, not me." Harry looked at Gabrielle, who flushed but grinned nonetheless.

Harry tried to piece it together. "How did you figure it out, then," Harry asked Cho after some thought. "I noticed there were four symbols," she began, "Hermione said 'equal', and I remembered Bellatrix mentioned the word 'solace' to me. That's when I realized who the prediction was referring to."

"What happened to Bellatrix," Harry asked, remembering how she had fallen before she could mount Cho's broom. Ginny shook her head. "There was no sign of her anywhere. Professor Dumbledore figures she was able to transfigure herself into a bird or something. He's positive she not within miles of the school."

Then he remembered a frightening sight. Cho was about to cross over the rune Bellatrix said would kill her. "I thought you couldn't pass that symbol without it..." Harry wanted to finish his question, but couldn't say the last bit.

"Well," Cho grinned at Hermione, "I remembered something Hermione told me about that particular rune. It needs to have a specific name to set it off; only Bellatrix set it against 'Cho Chang', which isn't my real name."

Harry gave her a puzzled look. "My real name is Xiaucho," she said, smiling. And then Harry realized... her brother, whom she called Sai; his real name was Xiausai. That's how Cho had introduced him at the quidditch match. Harry grinned back at her, rather stupidly.

"Hang on," he said next, for he had just realized that she had arrived far too quickly to have reached his headmaster. "I though you were off to tell Dumbledore." He suddenly felt as though she had deceived him. "I was," Cho insisted, "but then someone stopped me." "What d'you mean someone stopped you," asked Harry incredulously. "It was somebody in the shadows," she said, "he wouldn't show himself."

Her expression changed and Harry had never seen her look so serious before. "He told me that it was all a trap for you. Said if I didn't go to you straight away, you would die. He even told me which corridors to go down, and which room you would be in." Cho looked at him critically. "I didn't want to take that chance," she said, almost defensively.

"But then," Harry said, turning to Hermione, Ron and Ginny. How did you know to come, and where to find me?" Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out a bit of folded parchment. "I found this note in my pocket, before we left the tower," Ron explained.

"I don't know how it got there," he elaborated, handing Harry the bit of parchment. "I laid my clothes out about a half-hour before, and that pocket was empty." Harry unfolded the note anxiously, half curious, half doubtful, but entirely puzzled.

The note was addressed specifically to Ron and instructed him to find him, Harry straight away. It stated that he needed their help and described briefly the fastest route to find him, including three secret shortcuts that most people didn't even know about.

Gabrielle slid her way into Cho's seat, and Cho placed an arm around her. "How's Mark?" she asked the little Ravenclaw. Harry, who was still pouring over the mysterious note, turned so fast at the sound of Mark's name, that he cricked his neck. "What?!" he asked, massaging the side of his neck.

"'E is doing better," Gabrielle smiled. That's when Harry spotted a familiar person just a few beds away. Cho looked over to him as well and, with a pat on Gabrielle's hand, sent the little girl over to the boy's bedside.

"Bellatrix found Gabrielle and Mark before they reached the Great Hall," began Cho, who was looking rather apologetic. "Mark was very brave. He tried to stop her from taking Gabrielle but..." Cho paused, and Harry thought he knew why.

He was pretty sure that Cho now felt bad for having treated Mark as she had with regard to her charge, but Harry couldn't help thinking that Mark would probably consider his selfless act a small price to pay for the approval of one Cho Chang.

"But why did Bellatrix go after Gabrielle," asked Neville with a puzzled expression, "I thought she was after Harry." Everyone seemed all at once to look at Cho, who glanced affectionately at Gabrielle. "My broom," she said simply.

"Professor Dumbledore seemed quite certain that she scryed my Comet and picked up on my feelings for Gabrielle, as well as for you," said Cho, looking at Harry. "Either Gabrielle or I would've served her purpose; to lure you to that room with the death runes."

Harry had to spend the next day in the Hospital wing but did not mind so much because Cho stayed with him almost the entire time, and he had a steady stream of visitors to help pass the time. Neville and Luna told him all about the ball he missed. "It was alright," said Luna, dreamily. "But I dare say I had more fun at the Gryffindor Ball." Luna grinned at Neville, whose round face turned red.

Gabrielle visited Harry with Mark, who had gotten out just the day before and looked as though he had had quite enough of the hospital wing. When Cho turned up however, Mark's expression took on a more pleasant mood.

Even Gabrielle seemed to notice this. "It's too bad she alrezy 'as a boyfriend zen," she said coolly, in reply to a comment Mark made about how pretty Cho's hair looked. Cho turned to Harry trying very hard to suppress a giggle. Mark flushed and then told Gabrielle how much prettier Cho's hair would be if it were blond. Gabrielle rolled her eyes, but blushed all the same.

Hermione and Ron turned up just after dinner that evening to accompany Harry back up to Gryffindor tower. Harry, Cho, and Gabrielle were recounting Friday night's attack when they arrived. "Did you hear?" Ron asked, "They're gonna rename the hospital wing after you. It's gonna be the Harry Potter wing."

"Grab a seat guys," Harry told Hermione and Ron. "Go on, then," he said, looking at Cho. "Well," Cho said, picking up where she left off, "I realized I was the solace. I thought Ron was the equal, Hermione was the reverent, and Ginny was the unrequited."

"Hang on," said Harry suddenly, "How d'you know Ginny was the unrequited?" Cho smiled. "Marietta told me about their little conversation, and she suspected it by the way she talked about you. Anyway, Hermione confirmed it for me one time, when you boys were practicing quidditch." Cho and Hermione looked at each other and giggled. "What's so funny?" asked Gabrielle. "Nothing," chorused Cho and Hermione.

"Anyway," Cho continued, "When Gabrielle got free of her ropes I realized that Ron was the only guy. Then I guessed that the gestalt was composed of all girls. It's usually more powerful that way. So it turned out that Hermione was the equal and Gabrielle was the reverent." She paused and turned to the little girl. "How did you manage to free yourself anyway?"

"I zidn't," Gabrielle shrugged, "A rat chewed through eet, I zink. I saw one running off afzer I wuz free." There was a moment of silence. "Ron," said Hermione seriously, "could a rat have crawled into your pocket to leave that note, before you changed?" Ron nodded, and then his eyes went wide.

"You don't reckon..." Harry asked uncertainly. "Peter Pettigrew?" said Harry, Hermione, and Ron altogether. "He would've known about those shortcuts," reasoned Hermione, "The ones in that note." "You mean Peter Pettigrew—Wormtail, was it?" asked Cho.

"I don't remember Pettigrew being at the Department of Mysteries," Harry said, looking at Ron. "I don't reckon he was," said Ron, looking at Hermione. "I don't recall seeing him there either," concluded Hermione.

"You don't think, maybe," Ron began to say. "Well," said Hermione, looking at Harry, "You did save his live, you know. Maybe he was trying to redeem himself." Harry gave it some thought. "I reckon I did the right thing, then... sparing his life, I mean." Cho took hold of his hand. "It's better to be merciful... than vengeful," she said wisely.

The End


End file.
